Fifteen Years
by HauntedSilver
Summary: It took fifteen years for Peeta to convince Katniss to have kids. But what happened in between? Probably about fifty different scenarios of how Peeta tried to persaude Katniss to have a family.
1. Prologue

Fifteen Years

"Peeta, what are you doing?"

I glance back at Katniss over my shoulder. "Making you cheese buns."

She eyes me suspiciously. "Are you trying to butter me up for something?"  
Strange how she always notices when I'm up to something.

I sigh. "Katniss, I make you cheese buns every day." Now she's giving me that look, the one where she's trying to decide if I'm telling the truth or spinning my spiderwebs of lies for her.

But she takes her favourite breakfast anyway.

"So...I was thinking Katniss,"

"Mmph?" She's dutifully chewing her cheese buns, but watching me with her rainwater eyes.

"Have you ever thought about having kids?" It's a bit of an awkward question, so I turn away and start cleaning the dishes. "When we're older, I mean." She's so silent that I can't resist glancing back.

Katniss's cheese bun is still in her hands, and her gaze is steady, but she looks like she's having a hard time trying to swallow. "What?"

"Having kids."

"No." She says, shutting down. Her eyes make it pretty obvious that she has, though.

I sigh again, and scrub a cookie tray clean before speaking again. "Well would you?"

Katniss is staring at her plate blankly. It takes her a while, but finally she mutters "No."

It hurts me a little, actually. Because I do. Because I want a family so bad that my lungs seem to constrict. But still, I manage to choke out a smooth "Why?"

Katniss finally meets my eyes, and she must see something in them because her face softens. "Because." She's never been very good with words. "Because I'm scared they'd get reaped." And because Katniss isn't very good at saying something, I have to try and read her expression.

"Katniss," I sit down next to her to start my own breakfast. "The Hunger Games are over, remember?" We both wince a little at the mention of the Games. "What are you afraid of?"

But she doesn't answer me. Instead Katniss gets up and leaves me to do the dishes. But I can't be discouraged this easily. Because I do want a family. I don't care how long it will take me to convince her, I just know I will.


	2. Paintings

**A/N: So within an hour of posting chapter one, I got two reviews and six story alerts. Guess who feels special?**

"Peeta, what are you doing?"

I smile, dabbing a bit more paint onto the eyes. "Painting."

"That's not what I meant." I turn to see Katniss leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed. "What are you painting?"

I shift aside for her to see it. It's of her and I in a meadow somewhere, but the focus is on three kids chasing each other and the big smile on Katniss's face. "Do you like it?"

"Peeta, you're not still going on about having kids, are you?" Her eyebrows are raised, almost absently, and her arms are still crossed.

I drop my face into a hurt expression. "It's just a painting, Katniss." It's not. "I think it's pretty good." And I do, the colours I used are really nice, and Rue's wildflowers are everywhere.

"Whatever you say Peeta." Not really intending to, I give her a sharp glance. She's grumpy this morning. As long as I paint something outside the Games or the war or something she doesn't want to remember, Katniss is usually perfectly happy with my artwork. Today it doesn't even get a second glance.

So rather than immediately ask her if something's wrong, I hang the painting in the hallway so she'll have to walk by it every day. When I come back, she's still standing there.

"Aren't you going hunting today?" I ask, putting my pot of paints back into their usual places.

"It's raining." Katniss points out. "And I want to add something to the book."

"Oh?" I could seize this opportunity to mention having kids again, but that would only make her angrier.

"I want you to paint that picture of Prim and Lady," Her voice still chokes on her sister's name. That must be why she's upset.

"Okay, Katniss." I say it very quietly, opening my arms to her. Over the past year, we've grown closer than ever and it's gotten even easier for her to offer me any affection. I don't want to end this moment, but I have to ask. "Is that why you don't want kids? Because of Prim?" My voice catches a little too, and on reflex I glance towards the front windows.

Katniss stiffens, then relaxes back into my arms. "I don't want to talk about that, Peeta."

"Okay," I say. But after I've finished painting Prim and Lady in the book (the goat's licking her cheek-on what used to be the happiest day of Katniss's life), and she's gone to the woods after all, I make picture after picture of Katniss with kids. I don't like painting myself in them as much, but I do make one. There's Katniss with two little blonde girls on her lap, telling a story. One with Katniss braiding a little girl's hair. Another of her and a boy hunting. I leave them all up in my painting room; except the one with me in it, because I had one of my fits and mistakenly slashed blue through it.

Then I go bake, because it's one of the few things that makes me happy anymore.

"I'm back," Katniss calls, looking plenty calmer, which is what usually happens when she returns from hunting. She drops of her game bag on the table, but for some reason she goes into my painting room- which is exactly where I want her anyway.

"Peeta! What is this?"

Taking my time, I extract a baker's dozen of dinner rolls from the oven and set them out to cool. Then I go to Katniss, staring at my paintings, still on their easels.

"Peeta..." Her voice is warning. She really is in a bad mood today.

"They're paintings, Katniss." I sigh, having enough with her anger today. My fingers are still a little shaky from earlier.

She glances at the discarded one, with the ragged blue stripe across half my face and my imaginary son and daughter. Katniss studies it for such a long time I start to wonder if she's coming to my side of the argument. Instead of bringing it up though, she suggests I go to bed early.

But that only gives me time to plan more ways to convince her.

**A/N: These are actually really short, so that's why I can update so fast. Plus I'm really fond of this idea! By the time I posted this chapter I had 12 story alerts, 10 favourites, and 5 reviews. So then I felt even MORE special! Thanks to everyone who review/alert/favourite-d!**


	3. Katniss: 1 Peeta: 0

**A/N: I'm sorry it took me so long to update! I was trying to make a longer chapter...I don't think it worked. And yeah, this is not one of the first things I can see Peeta doing. But even he didn't know his own logic. **

I light the last candle I'd ordered from the Capitol, letting the smell of rainwater and watermelon engulf me. Katniss would be home any minute now...

"Peeta? Why does it smell like fruit in here?"

Not even bothering to answer her question, I grab Katniss by the waist and kiss her. I think she's trying to make me let go, but I'm not really sure. Her hands are pressed against my chest, but that could mean a number of different things. So instead of bothering to figure out what she wants, I just kiss her until I need air.

"Peeta, what are you doing?" Katniss's voice is soft, and she's panting a little too.

I don't answer. I've regained my breath by now, so I kiss her again. Something stirs in my chest, making me hungry for more of her. It keeps spreading, like coals are rolling around my insides. My fingers twitch a little, then get to work on undoing her braid. It's a tricky task, because I'm still kissing her, but my hands long to tangle themselves in her hair.

Eventually, I manage to get the elastic off, and most of her hair free. Katniss's hands find my chest again and she's shoving me. I think she's trying to push me away until I trip onto the couch and she kisses me back.

When I first thought of this, it seemed like a good idea. Now I have no idea what I'm doing, or what I even thought I was doing in the first place.

I'm starting to feel a little light-headed. I wriggle from Katniss's grasp and suck in air until my lungs are satisfied. She's sitting on my lap and smiling at me, and her hair's half braided and half a tangled brown mess.

"I don't know what you're planning, Peeta," She says. How exactly did she catch her breath so fast? "But it's not going to work."

"What do you mean it's not going to work? All I want-" Katniss can tell that I'm about to launch into a very convincing lecture, but instead if letting me continue she kisses me instead.

I had all my ideas laid out in my head but her lips are making my brain feel fuzzy. My hands are looping around her waist, and her fingers are entrapping my neck so I can't let go of her. Which is a development I'm perfectly happy with, but I'm already running out of air. She probably knows, too, but sometimes Katniss becomes a sort of hungry animal when this happens.

I squirm, struggling to take a breath, but she's still pressed up against me. Katniss, I try to say, but my lips are still otherwise engaged with hers. I don't want to, but I push her off.

"Katniss," I wheeze, which probably makes me sound as attractive as an old man. I try to push the image of me as Cray out of my mind. "Stop for a second."

"What exactly were you planning Peeta?" Katniss is giving me an inquisitive glance. But there's something about her expression that makes me think she's smirking.

I mustered a sly grin. "What? I can't kiss you?"

"Not when you're up to something." She whispers. She's leaning over me now, the disentangled parts of her hair dangling in my face. I'm about to protest, to get to the main part of my argument, but she's kissing me again.

Funny how she keeps doing that.

I pretty much give up whatever I was planning after that. When Katniss finally pulls away, she's grinning like a fox. Then she slips off of me and starts towards her game bag to put everything away.

"Your move Peeta!"

Katniss: 1 Peeta: 0


	4. Katniss's Mother Drops In

**A/N: After I posted chapter three I went out and literally the first thing I did was check was my email. 19 Notifications, and six of them were reviews! I pretty much had a huge smile plastered on my face for ten minutes after I read them. Thank you so much guys! To show my gratitude, this chapter should be longer than the others (maybe the longest thing I've written so far?). And I'm going to warn you guys right now, once a week will be my usual update speed. Love you guys for reviewing!  
**

It takes a hovercraft three hours to go from District 13 to here. It takes 21 hours to take a hovercraft from District 4 to here. But it takes a train 168 hours.

So when Katniss's mom was half an hour early I was a little surprised.

I'd been baking blueberry muffins and apple scones for when she arrived, Katniss just sitting at the island and eyeing me suspiciously. She didn't even bother to put the plant book or the piles of letters away.

"Peeta, what are those for?" I'm not quite sure when she got so good at deciding I've plotted something against her.

"Katniss. I'm just baking. I do it every day." I half-lied, checking on the muffins.

"Yeah, but you never make scones." Katniss leaned forward in her seat, like she thought I was slipping morphine into the muffins or something.

"That's because you hate them." I quipped.

Katniss settled back in her chair with a triumphant grin. "Exactly." She said the word with a certain relish. "So why are you baking them?"

"Because I like them." I settled the muffin pan on top of the oven. When I glance back she's giving me a skeptical look. But it's mixed with the usual are-you-lying-to-me confusion, so I'll probably be fine.

"Katniss!"

That was about the point Katniss's mom burst in.

"Katniss," She smiled. "How are you?"

Katniss whirled to face me, the look on her face half shock and half accusing. I throw up my hands helplessly. This is the first time they've been face-to-face since the war. It took a lot of convincing to get Katniss's mom to come here. But that's when my silver tongue comes in handy.

"I-I...fine." Katniss says grudgingly, returning her mom's hug. I beam at the scene probably a little too smugly, because Katniss glares at me over her mother's shoulder. It's not that she's not happy to see her mom -because she is, I can tell- it's that she somehow knows that I have an ulterior motive behind it.

Then the two Everdeens stand awkwardly, neither one quite knowing what to say.

That's where I come in.

"Would you like a muffin?" I ask Katniss's mom, going to my tray again. The scones won't be ready until later.

"Of course, Peeta." Katniss's mother beams. She's always liked my baking.

"So...what exactly are you doing here, Mom?" Katniss inquires, picking at the blueberry muffin I set in front of her. They have this silent agreement, that Katniss's mom wasn't coming back to District 12. That they'd call and maybe meet somewhere in-between, or at District 4, but not here. That the ashes were too thick for her to ever come back.

She thinks about it for a minute, sees if she can come up with a convincing enough lie, fails. "Peeta invited me." And by that she means 'Peeta convinced me.' Which Katniss takes as 'Peeta manipulated me'.

I sit down and Katniss shoots me a glare. She found out what I was up to, but she still hasn't figured out my motive. I'm a little surprised it took her this long to figure out something's up. I called her mom last week, after all.

Katniss and her mom make small talk for a while -which I have to maneuver a little better for them, because of the silence that drops into the conversation- until they get to the point I've been waiting for. The main reason I persuaded Katniss's mom to visit District 12 (besides making Katniss happy, of course).

"Katniss know that you're...you know," Katniss's mom turns her blue eyes towards me. I smile reassuringly. Katniss raises her eyebrows at me, still not entirely sure what I'm up to. "Have you ever thought about having children?"

Katniss's face immediately shits down, like when I first brought it up. "Yes." Her tone and expression make it clear that she doesn't want to talk about this any more and she wants kids less than anything. She's sitting stiffly in her seat. Normally I would go to her but Katniss's mom is sitting right there, reminding me of when we returned from the Games originally and she said that Katniss wasn't allowed a boyfriend. Plus this whole kids thing is unraveling into an elaborate game, one that I'm determined to win.

"And?"

"No," Katniss whispers, and my heart cracks like the Gamemakers have put an earthquake through it.

I vaguely hear Katniss's mother mention something else, about wanting grandkids maybe. My ears are ringing a little. I think I say I'm going to get the apple scones. They should be ready by now. I pull them from the oven and on to a serving tray. When I get back, Katniss and her mother are both dead silent. I can tell they're thinking of Prim.

"Scones." I say, and I think my voice cracks through the middle.

"Thank you, Peeta." Katniss's mom takes one, but she doesn't eat it. Instead she turns it over and over in her hands. Katniss still hasn't finished her muffin.

The two Everdeens sit there picking at their food -a little like Haymitch does when he's particularly downcast- and even I can't think of anything to say. So we sit there for a long time. I'm the only one that eats anything. I've made better scones.

Finally I can't take it anymore. "I'm not feeling well." I say. It's only four-ish, so going to bed early will look suspicious. "I think I'll take a nap." My voice trembles on just the right syllable to male Katniss look at me in concern. It's all about what strings to pull to make someone worry, and the last time I had a fit she made me go to bed early anyway. I lay awake for a while, listening. Katniss's mom brings up children again, and Katniss makes her drop it. They talk more about District 4 for a while, and Annie, and what Katniss and I have been doing (which is basically nothing). Eventually the conversation drifts back to kids. Katniss says something I can't hear. Then they sit in silence. I know Katniss's mom has to leave soon, so I drag myself back downstairs to talk a bit more before saying goodbye. The moment the door closes, Katniss leans on it, and raises her eyebrows at me.

"What was that all about?"

"Nothing." I reach over and twirl the end of her braid through my fingers. "I just wanted to make you happy." I stare absently at her hair, which can give the impression of not being interested. That can sometimes help with lying, but I can lie just fine looking her straight in the eyes. Besides, Katniss's hair is fun to play with.

"Look Peeta," She steps away, forcing me to drop her braid and meet her grey eyes. "I know you're obsessed with the whole kids thing. Did you manipulate my mom into coming here so that she could help you convince me?" Katniss studies me for a long time, which makes me smile. "It's not going to work."

"Sure it's not." I grin, flicking her braid. "I'm going to make dinner. Are you finished with that?" I gesture at the plant book and pile of letters that are still on the counter.

"No." She frowns. "What are you making?"

"That's a secret."

Katniss scowls, sorting through her letters again. "You're just mad it didn't work." She knows me better than that, so she's trying to annoy me. It made me frustrated, definitely, but that can just make me more determined. Mad is crossing some sort of line.

"No," I smile, avoiding my kitchen and leaning across the counter towards her. "I can't be mad at you." My voice is soft as I cup her chin in my hand. "Okay?"

"Okay," She relents, accepting my kiss. Then I go to make dinner. Three hours later though, when I curl my arms around her and close my eyes, she whispers something.

"Peeta?"

"Mmm?" I'm already half asleep because Katniss is so comfortable.

"I win."


	5. I Force Haymitch To Help Me

**A/N: Do any of you watch Once Upon A Time? AKA my most favourite show ever? If you do, I have a few fanfics for them if you're interested ;) Thanks again for all your wonderful reviews!  
-—-—-—-**

There are many reasons why getting Haymitch involved in anything is a bad idea:

1. He's always drunk.  
2. He likes to give many sadistic reasons for why he shouldn't be helping you.  
3. Sometimes he throws knives.  
4. Sometimes he throws bottles.  
5. Sometimes he throws food.  
6. Sometimes he makes it worse.  
7. Usually he doesn't help at all.  
8. He's very, very hard to convince to do anything.  
9. Convincing Haymitch usually involves knives.  
10. Sometimes it involves geese.

But I was running out of ideas. Winter wasn't for another nine months, which ruled out number eight on my list of Ways To Convince Katniss. Also, I have no idea how to operate a District 7 chainsaw (don't ask). So I made my way over to his house, even though it was hailing.

"Haymitch!"

He opens the door -not stumbling, surprisingly-and grunts. "What do you want?" His eyes are red, but he looks like he's bathed recently. I glance into his house, clean of empty bottles. Ah. His liquor ran out.

I manoeuvre my way past him into the house. "I need your help." Uninvited, I sit at his table, glancing at the window ledge where Katniss used to sit whenever she risked waking him up.

"With what?" Haymitch draws out boredly, in that tone that suggests he doesn't want to listen to you and definitely won't help.

"Katniss." I start. Haymitch grunts unhelpfully. There's one moderately easy way to fix that: bribery. Number four on my list of Ways To Convince Katniss. "I want kids, but she's...she really, really doesn't."

"And why not?" Haymitch implores in that same inattentive tone. He's dragging his finger along the dust on the tabletop, and it's obvious that he wants a drink more than anything right now.

I sigh, which is becoming too common lately. "She won't tell me."

As much as he hates it, Haymitch is still a great mentor. "That," He points at ms insistently. "Is the first thing you should have found out."

I cross my arms. "It's Katniss," I point out. Wonderful, stubborn, has-trouble-believing-half-the-things-that-come-out-of-my-mouth Katniss. "It could be forever before she tells me." Haymitch nods in agreement. I look up, pretending I just thought of it, which I obviously didn't. "But she might tell you."

"And what...might benefit me from this little endeavour?" Haymitch picks at his nails, obviously at a loss without his precious bottle clutched in his hand.

Generally, I don't like to think of myself as a conman, but sometimes I have to take extreme measures. "We might have some wine at my house." Wine isn't his favourite. He likes to call it feminine if he has a good stock of beer. But he's desperate. "If you're interested." This is the tricky part. You have to make the person want it without acting too suspicious. You can't be too nonchalant either, because they'll know you're up to something.

Haymitch studies me. He's trying to decide what I hope to achieve -even though he knows what it is- and if it's worth it. Finally the alcohol deprivation gets to him, because he thumps a hand down on the table, unsettling a month's worth of dust. "Fine."

Another trick to this is to not look smug. Looking relieved is good, and smiling ruefully is okay, but smugness makes people suspicious. And suspicion never helps in anything.

"I do have one condition." Haymitch growls as we stumble through the hail back to where Katniss and I live.

I glance inside to make sure Katniss isn't watching and lean on the door. "What?"

"You give me the liquor first. Then sweetheart and I will have our little...chat." He really is missing his beer, isn't he? It's too bad he does his best work moderately sober.

"Half." I compromise, unlocking the door. Haymitch grunts, but he'd rather get half now then nothing. He's more desperate right now, so I have the power at the moment.

Katniss must be upstairs, because all the rooms I can see are empty. I turn back to Haymitch. "I'll get you your wine, then you are going to talk to Katniss. I'll ice cookies or something. Or clean up your house." I wrinkle my nose at the thought of Haymitch's bedraggled dwelling. But if I'm there during their 'little chat' it'll only make Katniss suspicious.

I keep the wine locked up in the cellar, in the odd occasion I might use it -as in, number ten on Ways To Convince Katniss. But number ten was definitely one I did not plan on using. Because I've seen Katniss drunk once, and I'm not letting it happen again. As far as I'm concerned, Katniss will never be drunk again as long as she lives. Besides, Katniss isn't attractive drunk.

I pull a bottle out and check my stock. Katniss hasn't found it. I doubt she even knows it exists.

The lock clicks into place as I carefully close the panel. Then I do up the combination lock, because that's how careful I am.

Haymitch's waiting at the top of the cellar stairs, hands eager for the wine bottle I'm clutching. I hand it over and he takes a swig. "Is Katniss even here?"

"She should be." Katniss will get up before dawn for hunting, but if she doesn't she'll sleep in as late as she can. I check the bedroom and sure enough she's there, curled up snugly on my side of the bed.

"Katniss," It's almost ten o' clock by now. "Katniss." I shake her shoulder gently. Grudgingly, she wakes up, glowering at me.

"I'm not going hunting today." She's gone every day for the past three weeks. "Let me sleep." Katniss adds in a moan, resettling herself amongst a mound of pillows. I smile and sit down on the bed with her.

"I'm not letting you sleep until noon." I tell her, unravelling a piece of hair from her usual braid. "I have cookies to bake."

"You can do that without me!" Katniss protests. I kiss her neck gently, letting my lips linger on her skin.

"But I'll be lonely."

Katniss harrumphs and drags herself up, rubbing her eyes resolutely. I give her a quick kiss on the lips. "Good morning!" Then I flee downstairs to start on the cookies. I've already laid out a platter of cheese buns if she's hungry.

I can hear her dragging herself downstairs from where I've reclused myself in my painting room. They'll probably talk in the kitchen, and I can't linger there looking stupid and far too attentive.

I can picture her starting through the hallway, making a face at the painting of our future imaginary family in the meadow. "Peeta?" There's a long pause. She must have found Haymitch. "Peeta why is Haymitch here?"

Haymitch chuckles and says something I don't catch. That's pretty much their whole conversation: muffled words then raised voices. It was kind of frustrating to not be able to hear, but it's not like they're plotting anything against me. I got over that a long time ago.

I'm just finishing the last stroke of blue in the river when the door to my painting room creaks open. "Peeta, make him leave. Please."

I fight back a smile and look concerned. "Of course," I say, drawing her into my arms. "Was he bothering you?" She groans something against my chest, something that sounds like 'Yes'. Her hair is loose, just the way I like it. Katniss is warm in my arms, and she smells like wild clovers and rain. "What could he do that's so bad?" I tease, holding her tightly and twirling a lock of dark hair around one finger.

Katniss pulls away to look me in the eyes. "Peeta." Her voice is hard. "He's on withdrawal." Haymitch is terrible to be around when he hasn't had alcohol in a while.

"Okay. I'll make him leave." I smile softly and kiss her temple. She smells like cinnamon too. Maybe I left some cinnamon rolls in the fridge yesterday.

Haymitch is still sitting at the table, wine bottle clutched in his hand. He chuckles when he sees me. "Your little sweetheart didn't want to put up with me today."

"What did you find out?"

"No," He holds up a hand as if to stop me. "Wine first," Haymitch gestures to the cellar. "Then we'll talk."

I fetch him his wine and sit down again, and even I'm getting frustrated with him today. "What did she tell you?" Haymitch takes such a long drink that I'm tempted to find a knife and slam into the table, mahogany or not.

"She doesn't want kids," He slurs. Is it possible to get drunk that fast? "Because she's scared. She still has this irrational fear of her children getting reaped. And then when Snow threatened to kill Gale, or us...she's scared Peeta. She thinks they're going to get taken away."

"She told you all that?" I demand in disbelief. Katniss is definitely not that open. Big sharing sessions are not for her. That's why she hates therapy, why she doesn't talk to doctors about her feelings.

Haymitch chuckles. "No. But it was implied. And she did slip out a thing or two." He takes a long drink. "I also think that she thinks they'll die on her or something. That every high fever will turn into a plague. I don't know if you've noticed Peeta, but she'd make a terrible mother."

I don't have anything to say to that. Haymitch is probably right, but there have to be a few more reasons.

"Okay...that's all you got?"

"Do you have any more wine?" Haymitch interrupts, sputtering. His second bottle is nearly empty.

"No. Did she say anything else?"

"Nope." Haymitch garbles. "Have fun with this little endeavour. It might take a while." Haymitch laughs to himself once more before wandering back to his house. So much for that idea.

I guess it's time for number three, then.


	6. I Threaten Our Food Sources

Cold.

That's the thing that wakes me up in the morning. I've expected it to, of course. I always notice when she leaves. But usually I go back to sleep.

Not today.

I can hear the springs creak as she sits up, the shuffle as she puts on her shoes. The floorboard by the door squeaks, but Katniss is too stealthy for it to sound. She can even prise the door open with silent fingers. But the one thing she can't silence is the protesting growl Buttercup makes when she nearly steps on him.

"Katniss?" I mumble blearily. It must be around six o'clock. That's when she usually goes hunting.

I catch on to the tenseness that must mean she's frozen on the spot, hoping I'm just talking in my sleep. Waiting for me to shift a little, or roll over and go back to sleep.

I sit up instead.

"Peeta," She hisses. "You scared me." Sure I did. "What do you want?"

"I'm coming with you." I insist, hopping out of bed and putting on a pair of pants.

"Hunting? Oh, no." Katniss scowls, trying to slip through the door. I dart across the room in one lunge and catch her wrist.

"Yes, I am." I say in my most forceful tone, fixing her with a hard glance. We stare each other down for a while, and finally Katniss decides -against her better judgement, I'm sure- that she might as well let me follow her. Even though it means she'll probably catch nothing.

"Fine. But you should dress warmer." Her voice is laced with enough ice to make most people shiver. I follow her gaze to my stomach. I didn't get a chance to put on a shirt yet.

"Got it!" I shoot her a winning grin and pull on a sweater. She keeps shooting me suspicious glances as we go out the house and to the fence. But really, she should know what this is about. She already knows she's not going to catch any game. It's why she only brought three arrows.

Katniss ducks under the fence. It's not charged anymore, and I think they cut off the power, but sometimes the odd current goes through and the whole thing charges up again.

I follow her into the woods. She winces at every other step I take, like I'm stepping on explosives instead of twigs. Even her silent hunter's crawl is messing up. Finally, when we're far enough into the woods and I've scared the animals away, she looks at me. The suspicion I get every day is making me a little sick.

"Okay, Peeta. What is it you really want?" She knows I know better than to intrude on her hunting. It'd be like her standing over my shoulder telling me how to bake, only I wouldn't mind as much.

"I want kids." I tell her. "I want a family. I'm not leaving until you agree." She'll hate me for it later, but she hates my loud feet more. Katniss has to agree just for the sake of her serenity. If I have to, I can follow her every day she goes hunting until she complies.

Katniss looks at me in dismay. She stares at her bow almost forlornly, like she's thinking about shooting me for some peace. Then she just starts walking like I'm not even there. I think she's actually going to try to shoot something anyway, but I still manage to get close enough that whatever she was planning on killing skitters away. It's going too fast for me to identify it.

"Peeta," She sighs. At least my plan is working.

"I'm sorry, Katniss." I try to hug her, but she slips from my arms.

"If you're sorry, why are you still here?" She has a point there.

Besides, any comeback or convincing words could make her angry. So instead we stand there silently for a while. Now that I'm standing still the animals have started up again, shuffling back to their usual business. I know there'd be more if I wasn't here. Katniss can get a rabbit to walk right by her.

I glance back at Katniss to find she's slipped away without my noticing. She can't be too far off. I whirl around, scanning the woods as I spin in circles. Eventually, I track her down. She's snuck probably fifty feet away, crouching in a bush like she's about to shoot something. I hear the sharp twang of the bowstring when she releases the arrow as I start after her. Katniss picks up a squirrel —the arrow's straight through the eye, as usual— then casually turns her bow in my direction.

"You can try and run Katniss, but I'm not leaving." I say matter-of-factually, leaning against a tree. My fake leg makes a ping of protest as it bumps into a pebble.

"I can try and run?" Katniss echoes. Maybe it wasn't the best choice of words.

She shoots off faster than arrows fall from her bow. I catch glimpses of her braid, but she blends in with the woods far better than I can ever hope to. I start off in her direction, but I don't know these woods as well as she does. I could be here all day and never find her. She could be back home already, for all I know. So I head back —because anything else I could do is pretty much hopeless. It takes me an hour to escape the woods, and I collapse at the kitchen table smelling like grass and leaves. My clothes are damp from the leftover rain and I have a bunch of leaves sticking to my skin.

With a sigh, I lay my head on the table and wait. I'm too tired to do anything else and my mind is on overdrive trying to add to my list of Ways To Convince Katniss. I've spent way too much time on that lately.

"So you gave up," I can hear the smirk in her words.

I drag my head up with a moan to examine her. Katniss is just closing the door. Her game bag is overstuffed. It's hard to believe she shot that much with three arrows. She must have had more hidden in the woods somewhere.

"Good, because I was about to go out and find you." Katniss slides into the seat next to me and plucks a leaf from my hair, smiling.

"That was not fair," I protest. I sound almost as exhausted as I feel. If I didn't want kids so badly, I think I might have given up by now.

"Neither is this little game, Peeta." She points out. I don't think that's fair to say, since she always wins.

So instead of responding, I just groan and drop my head back on the table. Katniss laughs.

"You can have a shower if you want. But I still expect you to make lunch." Thanks, Katniss. Although cooking is definitely not her strong point.

"Wow, thank you." I mumble against the table. I'd like to see Katniss try to bake something. It would probably work out better than me trying to hunt, though.

I think Katniss is skinning something. All I can hear is a dull scrape.

"I'm going to try again tomorrow." I tell her, but instead I'm staring at the grains of the table. "And maybe the day after."

I hear the dull thud of the knife being dropped onto the table. I'm pretty sure Katniss is crossing her arms. "It's not going to work."

I don't care at this point. I'm going to keep trying, because eventually something has to. She can't be inconvincable.

I'm supposed to be able to convince anyone to do almost anything with a few persuasive words. I've been used to try and stop a war. I persuaded Katniss's mom into coming here, to the place where the ashes of everyone she loved lie. I've gotten Haymitch to stay sober. Katniss seems convinced that I could raise the dead with only my voice. But the only thing I can't seem to do is get Katniss to have kids.

-•-•-•-•-•-

**A/N: So this chapter didn't exactly turn out like I wanted it to. My inspiration is a little shot at the moment. But don't worry, if next chapter is still a little stiff, the one after should be better :)**


	7. Katniss Gets Stuck

**A/N:  
I'M SORRY.**

My cousin gave birth yesterday (on Mother's Day, how ironic is that?), and there was the Once Upon A Time Season finale (which I LOVED) and...well, basically I was also kind of lazy and my inspiration has been a little lackluster lately.

Yeah, I have no idea when or if they got married. I could see them doing the bread ceremony though.

-•-—-å-ø-—-•-

My latest plan is to go with what's effective.

Which, so far, is almost nothing. Following her hunting was effective, to a point. But that was only because she could get away from me.

So, basically, if you do something than annoys her and she can't stop you from doing it, she'll have to agree eventually.

Katniss wasn't hunting this morning. I could tell, because she yawned kind of loudly and stretched, making the bedsprings creak. Her limbs made that crackly sound from not being used. I'm pretty sure Katniss is still half asleep.

I'm not though. I've been up for an hour, waiting. I'm on high alert. Katniss is just shifting her feet to the ground to get up and do...something, when I make my move.

My eyes snap open and I pounce on Katniss, pinning her to the mattress. It actually worked perfectly, which is a nice change of events for me.

"Peeta!" Katniss protests. "What are you doing!"

I take a minute to actually study my elaborate trap. I'm restraining her by her wrists and crouching over her, which, if we weren't married, might be an awkward position. Katniss is scowling at me.

"You're going to stay right here," I say resolutely. "Until you agree to have children." Technically, I can't force her. But if trapping her here all day at least convinces her to tell me why she doesn't want children, or persuades her slightly, I'll feel accomplished.

"What happens when one of us has to go to the bathroom?"

I haven't thought that far. But I did come up with this in the middle of the night. Admittedly, it's not one of my better plans. But convincing Katniss of something is never this hard or painful. Usually she either believes you or she doesn't.

Katniss sighs and drops her head back onto the mattress. "Peeta..." She sighs. "When you let me go, I'm going to kill you."

I grin. "I know."

"You're not really going to keep me here all day, are you?" Katniss asks. She's staring out the window like she doesn't want to even look at me.

"If I have to." I probably won't. But I can't give up now and I don't know what else to do. Refusing to hold her at night has crossed my mind, but that's a hundred times more cruel than anything I've done so far.

She gives up on sort-of ignoring me, and shoots me stormy grey glare. "Nothing you do will convince me to have children, Peeta."

My throat clogs up a little. I try imagining life without children. "Nothing?" I sound desperate, even to myself.

Katniss gives me a sad look, like ' Peeta please don't make me feel sorry for you' but I can't help but feel like there's an added on 'You're pathetic enough already'.

"So..."

I think we've been lying there for two hours in awkward silence when I try to talk to her again. Instead of letting me continue, Katniss starts interrogating me.

"Why do you want children so badly anyway?"

Most people would shoot back a 'Why don't you?' but that would never work on Katniss. "Because I love kids. Because I want someone I can teach to bake or paint, to watch them grow. So I can have someone to read stories to, to take places." It's not a good speech. I had to do it on the spot, and my brain has been kind of numb for a while now. Katniss is the one who's good at being inspiring at a random time. I have to have at least a little time to plan, to figure out my next move. No actor can go into anything completely unprepared.

"You can read to me," Katniss interrupts before I add more. She might even try to make some convincing lie about me teaching her to bake.

"Katniss, you love children too." She cringes a little. She's obviously thinking of Prim. "You love your family." Her little family that includes me, Haymitch, a distant mother, and maybe Greasy Sae. "Don't you want children too?"

"No."

Katniss hates being vulnerable. She hates having people she loves used against her. And she hates seeing them hurt.

That's why she cringes every time I have a fit, and 50% of her nightmares involve everyone she ever loved dying. Or at least one of us.

"Katniss. I know you do." I protest. Two hours of pinning Katniss by her wrists. My hands are super sore, especially my fingers. I didn't know it was possible to plank for two hours until now.

"Can I go to the bathroom please?"

"Fine, but you have to come back and let me trap you again." I say flatly. She glares at me, but I let her up anyway. Another second and I would've collapsed on her anyway.

Katniss bolts the moment she's free. So much for that plan.

I frown and remake the bed. When I get back downstairs Katniss is sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by mounds of cheese buns, croissants, apples, soup, and turkey. Our fridge is noticeably empty.

"What?" Katniss demands, shoving a piece of chicken in her mouth. "I was _hungry_."

"Katniss, this doesn't look anything like breakfast." I sigh. She eyes me like 'If you even think about lecturing me about how breakfast is the most important meal of the day, I'm going to sit on you. For _three_ hours'.

"It's lunchtime! I'm making up for two meals!" She stuffs a cheesebun in her mouth. I'll have to make more soon.

I sit down. The rest of the day is pretty uneventful. She grudgingly curls up in my arms at night.

When I wake up the next morning, she's gone.


	8. Katniss And I Play Games

**A/N: It wasn't my fault this time. My parents dragged me to Victoria.**

**Have you guys heard 'Real Or Not Real' by ALL CAPS? No? They're this band that writes songs about the randomest stuff (mainly electronics, now that I think about it). Anyway, it's a HG games song that I watched the video for about a million times before the movie. **

**\\\\\\**

I hate games.

I like games that are useful: like Katniss's lists of good deeds, and Real or Not Real. Board games are fine too, I'm pretty good at most of them. Games kids play to entertain themselves, like tag and hide 'n' seek are okay too, as long as no one gets hurt.

I hate games like the one I'm playing right now.

"Peeta, I've won like seven rounds now. Give up already."

"I'm not giving up." I insist. "Why do you keep thinking you're winning anyway?"

"As long as you fail to convince me, I win." Katniss explains flatly. "What's the score now? Me seven, you nothing?"

"Five." I say grudgingly. "You five, me...zero." It's not that I hate losing. As long as it's a game just for fun (as in, one that won't result in my death), I'm happy to lose. I have almost everything I could ever want.

"No, I'm pretty sure I have seven."

"You have five, Katniss." I say, rubbing my temples. I've been headachy all day, which is not a good sign.

"Seven." She insists, crossing her arms.

"Fine." I say, even though I'm the only one doing anything relatively close to keeping score. But I'm not really capable of holding a grudge, especially against Katniss. "You have seven." I pull her into my arms. "I'm just an idiot."

"Yes, you are." She grins, popping a candy she bought from the market into her mouth. Apparently I'm not allowed any for being so persistent about having children. She calls it mean. I guess it kind of is, but she won't give me a chance to talk to her about it.

She drops her head on my shoulder. The tips of her braid tickle my ear. "You know what?" Katniss mumbles against my skin.

"What?" I whisper back.

"Let's end this. Right now." She disentangles herself from me and stands. "We're going to have a competition. If I win, you'll stop talking about this. If you win—"

"You'll agree to have children?" I say hopefully, even if she's making me skeptical. "Eventually?"

"—you can keep trying." She finishes with a slight frown in my direction. "As much as I hate it." Katniss adds pointedly.

I'm not going to get a better offer. "Okay. What kind of competition?"

"I don't know. We'll play a game or something." Katniss grabs her bag of candies from the table and stuffs two in her mouth. She could probably tell I was going to take one.

I raise an eyebrow at her. It's an interesting idea, to say the least. I kind of wish I'd thought of it. I win and she agrees. "What kind of game?"

Katniss whirls and starts searching the house for boardgames. There's a chess set in the kitchen area, by the hearth. Katniss isn't much of a strategist, but I'm great at chess. Which must be why she's avoiding it.

I start rolling out dough for cinnamon buns. I can hear Katniss puttering about in the house. She's been at it for probably fifteen minutes now, and she hasn't reached upstairs yet, which means she could be another half hour. I wasn't aware there were that many board games in the house. I didn't know we had more than three, actually, so when Katniss returns with her arms laden with at least sixteen different board games, I'm kind of surprised.

She dumps them all on the table and smiles. "Okay! Which one do you want to play?"

I glance at the mess of games in shock. Since when did the Everdeens ever have boardgames? Most of them had to have come with the house, because before we won Katniss wouldn't have wasted her time playing these.

I pick up a wooden Chinese Checkers set that I'm pretty sure came from what used to be my house. "How about this one?" I only grabbed it because it was closest to me, and I've never seen Katniss play it before.

"I'll be green." She says, snatching it from my hands and setting it up, all the while chewing on her candy obnoxiously. I roll up my cinnamon buns and put them in the oven.

"Ready!" Katniss beams at me. I love it when she's in a good mood like this. Not that I don't love her all the time, but this is when I like her best.

"Good luck." I say, even though I don't have any to spare. I have to win this. There's no orange in Chinese Checkers, so she gave me red instead. Red, the exact opposite of green. I wonder if she did that on purpose, if it's supposed to be symbolic.

Katniss takes out her first piece. I didn't even know she knew how to play this game, but she's playing it pretty well. In the first fifteen minutes she has me a little scared. I still win, though (because I am a board games master).

"You cheated," Katniss accuses the moment I place my final piece into the triangle in front of her in a perfectly executed finish.

I lean back in my chair, aghast. "No..." I finally succeed in stealing one of her candies.

"No, you cheated." Katniss decrees, leaning over the board and examining it like there's some device that tells you where to put your pieces. Then she glances back at her three green pieces that have no way home.

"Katniss, I didn't cheat. I'm just better than you at this game." I say earnestly, jumping up to check on my cinnamon buns. I take them out of the oven to cool. Then I get to ice them. Usually cinnamon buns just get a glaze that melts deliciously all over the place. I'm thinking of icing little sparrows on them.

"You are not!"

"Katniss, I won." I say gently, dropping my oven mitts and sitting in front of her again. She stares despondently at the Chinese Checkers board. Then she pokes it, in case there's a device in there after all.

"Rematch." Katniss says, her head snapping up. Her grey eyes are fiercely determined, which is sometimes how I like them best. "I want a rematch."

"Okay..."

She stalks over to the heap of board games on the kitchen table. "And this time I'm picking the game."

I rub my temples again. "What game?"

"Checkers!" She says triumphantly, shaking the red and black box. "I'm great at this." Katniss confides, setting up the board again and giving me the black pieces. I think she did that because I like red better. "Watch out, Peeta, your future imaginary family that I don't want is at stake."

"I'll be on my best game." I vow, pushing my first piece from its spot. She moves to block me, and I jump her. The rest of the game goes something like that, with both of us blocking and jumping. I'm not as good at Checkers because the strategy and movements are different. It seems too simple. Twenty minutes later I have five kings and she has four. Sometimes it's hard to beat someone who knows you so well.

She beats me.

Just barely, but it's still enough to make me choke. I lost. No family, ever.

"You cheated!" I cry out, desperate not to loose. Katniss pauses in her victorious candy eating.

"No, I didn't. I'm just better than you at this game." She echoes my earlier words, mouth twisting into a smirk.

"Katniss...can I have a rematch? Please?" I do my best kicked-puppy face. She scowls.

"Fine."

I grin and snatch up the nearest game. It's Monopoly.

"Oh no, Peeta. I am not spending three hours on that game."

"It won't take three hours, Katniss." I can't remember the last time I played Monopoly. It had to be a really long time ago. I remember the rules, but I don't remember it ever taking that long.

"Yes, it will! The last time I played with Prim it took four hours. I was ready to shoot myself." Katniss mopes, scowling playfully. Then she remembers that Prim is gone.

"Okay, Katniss." I say softly, putting the game back. "How about this one?" I grip the closest one on the table behind me and pull it out.

_The Hunger Games: A Board Game,_ the cover declares. _Choose your tributes and fight to the death. Make alliances and die using playing cards. Only one tribute can win. Includes fifty seven action figure tributes to choose from and one hundred and twelve playing cards. Limited edition traps, weapons, foliage, and special features can be bought in stores. Based on tributes from the twenty-eighth, twenty-ninth, and thirtieth Games. Keep am eye out for The Hinger Games: A Board Game editions two and three._

Katniss and I stare at the box blankly. It's some sort if cruel joke that they put this in the house. I've never seen it before, but I can imagine it was popular in the Capitol.

Or maybe they manufactured this just for Victors. Maybe it really is just a very cruel joke. I wonder who made it, who planted it in the house.

"Not this one." Katniss whispers.

"No," I croak. "Not this one." I want to leave it in the oven, burn it, or feed it to bears. But that could set our house on fire, or kill a bunch of wild animals. Instead I dump all fifty seven (where did they come up with that number, anyway?) tribute action figures into a box. I hurl it in the cellar, as far away from me as I can get it. Then I remove all the cards, crumpling then in my fists, and drop them into the trash. The box and elaborate board go into the recycling.

"I don't think I want to play any more games today." Katniss says, glancing up at me. "You...you win, just...no more games."

"No more games," I agree, wrapping her in my arms and clutching to her like we'll both die tomorrow. She smells like peppermint candies. She's squeezing me like she's scared I'll slip from her arms. I think she might be crying.

The timer from my second batch of cinnamon buns shrieks like a million cannons.


	9. We Go On A Trip Down Memory Lane

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who's ever reviewed! I know you hear that a lot ;) Special thanks to Kilalahinannaruto555 who has reviewed every single chapter, and whose thoughtfulness and exuberance always makes me smile; and to NeverInMyFavor, (who's reviewed almost every chapter,) whose feedback I always look forward to.  
**

**Yeah...updates on Monday now until I can get up to a day earlier. **

**For some reason I picture Peeta and Katniss all reclused in their house...don't ask me why.  
-•-•-•**

I wish it was summer.

Not for any particular reason, really, I just like the season. Or at least I do now, because there's no reaping. Summer just seems to be the only time I do something incredibly productive. A few summers ago I thought I finally won Katniss's heart. I didn't, but at least I got a piece. We survived two summers of the Games. I invented a recipe for multi-flavoured icing one summer. Katniss and I got married last summer (hello, most productive thing ever).

The war wasn't won in the sumner, but that's the only thing I can think of that doesn't follow this pattern.

"Let's go out today." I suggest, prodding the scrambled eggs on the oven.

Katniss raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean 'go out'." I can tell she regrets letting me continue trying to convince her to have children. I haven't come up with anything since then either, so she knows I'm planning something.

"Katniss, we're the town recluses. Let's go somewhere." I scoop the eggs from the pan. They sizzle in protest.

"Fine." She grumbles, snatching the eggs and dumping most of them on her plate. I steal them back and sit down to eat. Katniss must be particularly hungry today, because she wolfs down her food and has to wait for me to catch up.

"I wish it was winter." She says, the moment we get outside.

I snatch up her hand and glance at her sideways. "Why?" Her favourite season is Spring.

Katniss shrugs. "I just do. I feel like being cold right now."

"Katniss, it's almost summer. You should enjoy it." I tease, tracing patterns on the back of her hand with my thumb.

"Where are you taking me anyway?"

"You...will see." I shoot back, kissing her temple. She gives me a look that says 'Dial down the affection in public _please_'. That just makes me pull our entwined hands over her shoulder, so I can have my arm around her and hold her hand at the same time. Katniss shoots me a glare before flicking her gaze to the other people milling around.

I tug her in the direction of the school. It's Sunday, so no one will be here. Luckily the front doors are open, so I nudge them open with no problem. The hallways all look like I remember, and I find the room easily, jerking Katniss inside.

"What is this?" She asks.

I grin and sit on one of the little desks. "Our Kindergarten classroom. The first time I saw you." She raises an eyebrow at me, almost amused.

"That's nice. Can we go now?"

Absently, I wonder how old she was when she met Gale. She's kept the story pressed like an exotic flower between the pages of a fat book, like a private memory just for her.

"Nope. Sing for me." I say, unable to wipe the grin from my face. "The Valley Song."

Katniss harrumphs. I haven't heard her sing in a while now, and I miss it. I miss the way every bird and every person would stop to listen, and it didn't even matter that she wasn't mine.

"Please?"

She eyes me. "Later. Where are you taking me next?"

I bring her to the courtyard, where she looked at me for the first time after the bread; and then to my parents' bakery. It seems like most of our legacy was written outside of District 12, but there are still enough places to go.

The main street we would always walk on, where we ended up kissing in the snow for the cameras. There are even fewer places to take her if you have to avoid memories of the Games. Most of them are riddled with fake kisses and affection that I try not to feel bitter about. I don't have to fight too hard since I'm holding her hand, but there's still always that nagging slicer of doubt. That dreaded thought that I might not be enough for her.

I take her to the place where I buy her flowers, and then a spot by the fence where I sometimes pick them. The little shop that's quickly turning into a bookstore where we sometimes go to escape the house. We visit the place where Greasy Sae now lives, and the apothecary, and the places where letters from other Districts are received. There's a letter from Katniss's mother and one from Annie. Most of these places aren't ones that bring about many memories of our relationship, or (thankfully for my quick planning) the Games. We stop by the spot where we got married on the way home.

"That was...nice, Peeta. Next time can we do it when no one's around?" She says, shooting me a glare about my 'overaffection'. "Maybe at night?"

"Fine," I say, setting the table for dinner. We were out all day, also dawdling at various shops for lunch. It's weird because I feel like only am hour has passed, instead of ten.

Katniss is extra short-tempered and scowly, because I've "used up more than her daily amounts of affection". I just chuckle and try to kiss her forehead, which, of course, she rejects.

It isn't until she needs my arms around her that she's tolerant of me again.

"Peeta?"

"Yes?" I mumble, circling her closer to me and opening my eyes. She's facing towards me tonight; so I'm rewarded with her grey eyes peering at me, almost silver in the moonlight.

"You know I love you, right?"

"Of course." I smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I love you, too." I wonder if she knows how much.

Katniss sighs happily, wriggling closer to my warmth and burying her face into my collarbone. "You're like Spring. You're always there for me." She mumbles something else that sounds like 'rebirth'.

I can't think of anything to say. Katniss can't be compared to a season, or just one simple thing. She's wild and fierce and free and stubborn and loving. "Yeah?" I say, because I've already told her these things before. She kind of chuckles and says 'Okay, Peeta' if I bring it up randomly.

"Yeah," I think sleep has made her a little out of it, like how if someone's drugged or feverish they spill all their secrets. "Do you know what Haymitch used to say to me?"

"What?" I whisper. Her lips on my skin makes me shiver.

"'You could live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve him.'" She sighs against my skin. "He's right." My breath catches a little.

I want to bring up children again, but I don't. I don't want to ruin the moment. "I could live two thousand and not deserve you either."

Katniss chuckles sleepily. "No. Just one." She smiles one last time and then her breathing evens out. Asleep.

I lay awake a while longer, just thinking the words over.


	10. Bribery

**A/N: This is the first one that doesn't take place over 24 hours. Yay for me...**

**Have any of you seen Avengers yet? I watched it twice last week. I wanna watch it again, ahaha. Definitely buying it on September 25th ;)**

I've mentioned it before, but I'll say it again: bribery is the second most effective way to get anyone to do anything. (Threats are the best way, but there's no way I'm threatening Katniss.)

"Katniss what would it take to convince you to have children?" I say one morning while we're lying in bed, twirling a piece of her hair around my finger. It's all curly from being braided.

"What do you mean?" Katniss asks, rolling over to look at me.

"How can I convince you?" I trace my fingers along her neck.

She catches my hand with a smirk. "You'll have to bribe me," Katniss teases. The only reason she's helping me is because she knows I've thought of it already. "With something pretty big." Then she hops out of bed.

**—-•-+-•-—**

"I'll teach you how to make cheese buns," I offer.

Katniss snorts. "Why would I want to learn how to make cheese buns?"

"So you can make them yourself." I say, stirring the cheese bun batter.

"When I have you to make them for me? Not a chance." Katniss smirks, popping up behind me and dipping a finger in the batter. She sticks it in her mouth and then recoils at the floury taste.

I laugh. "If you knew how to make cheese buns, you'd know not to do that."

Katniss wrinkles her nose at me. "Whatever."

**—-•-$-•-—**

"Katniss...I will bake you thirty cakes every day for the rest of my life if you agree to have children." I say, exasperated. I don't really have anything Katniss would want, unless I come up with a medication to stop nightmares. But she's already using my arms as medication anyway.

"Peeta, what am I going to do with thirty cakes?" She grins, shaking her head at me and scribbling another detail about Thresh in the book.

"I didn't think that far." I admit.

"Uh-huh."

**-•-—-•-**

"I'll buy you a new bow!" I say, as she goes to unlock the front door and escape into the woods.

Katniss hefts her worn-out bow higher on her shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with this one. I just have to get the string replaced."

"Those words mean nothing to me." I say, even though it's pretty obvious she's referring to the stretched-out bowstring.

"Goodbye, Peeta." Katniss smirks at me, flipping through the door.

I don't see her again until noon. She's carrying a brand new bow.

**-;;;-**

"I'll repaint the house if you agree to have children."

"What's wrong with the house?"

I raise an eyebrow at her, like 'Isn't it obvious?' "The paint is peeling everywhere. You can't live in Victor Village and have peeling paint."

Katniss shrugs. "I don't really care." I don't think her old house was ever repainted.

I end painting the house anyway, because it bothers me so much.

**-=-•-=-**

"I'll let you name them." I say while Katniss skins a rabbit.

"Peeta." She peels off a long strip of skin in one stroke with her knife. "If I don't want children in the first place, why would I care what they're called?"

"Fine, then. I'll name them."

"You can't name something that doesn't exist."

**-(•)-**

"Katniss, look what I got!" I say, carefully closing the door behind me and holding up a necklace for her inspection. The chain is silver, with buzzard intricate designs and a strange blue stone in the center.

She tries to snatch it from my hands. "It looks like...did Cinna make this?"

"Yep," I say victoriously, tugging the necklace out of her hands and dangling it just out of reach. "And others too." I rustle the file I'm holding, stuffed with designs.

"Where...where did you find this?" Her grey eyes are filled with wonder and longing. She goes downstairs just to look at his designs sometimes.

"I asked Octavia, Venia and Flavious if there was anything left. Turns out he started designing jewelry and left all these designs behind." My fingers tap the folder in my left hand.

"Give it to me." Katniss demands. "Please."

"If you agree to have children." I say, borrowing some of her stubbornness.

"No." Katniss practically snarls, whirling around and stalking away.

I end up giving her the necklace for her birthday and getting half of the designs made for her Christmas.

**-—-|-—-**

**A/N: I think this is my favourite so far :D  
It's kinda short, but I have strep so that's not exactly my fault ;D**


	11. Katniss Doesn't Like Pets

**A/N: My favourite super heroes were Iron Man, Hulk, and Hawkeye; but if I had to pick one then it'd definitely be Hawkeye ;) I loved Black Widow too (partly because I'm a Clintasha fan ;) ). All the actors in this movie are just fantastic. Sadly, I didn't get to see Avengers again this weekend. But my birthday's right after my school's out, so my cousin and I are definitely seeing it then. Huzza!**

Funny, it's been in theatres for a month and it's already in the top 100 for movies on here. 2,435 fanfictions the last time I checked. Double Huzza!

Sidenote: I'm in love with pugs. Hoping I get one for my birthday! :D

•-•~•—•-•

"Katniss, have you ever wanted a pet?" I inquire over the book I'm reading. She thinks it's weird to read in the Spring, especially with Summer just around the corner. That's usually the only time I read.

"I have Buttercup, and look where that got me." Katniss points out, making a face at the cat as she cleans her bow.

"Yeah, but you never liked Buttercup. What if it was a pet you actually wanted?"

"I don't want a pet."

"But if you did, what would it be?"

"Nothing. I don't want a pet."

I sigh in response, dropping my book onto the coffee table. "You have to want something."

"Not a pet."

I remember hearing somewhere that getting a dog is like preparation for having a baby. So, obviously, a dog is the first thing I'm going to try.

-

"Do you know where I can buy a dog?" I yell over the clamour of the other people buying things.

"A dog?" The saleswoman laughs. "I know where you can get a goat," There's no way I'm ever getting Katniss a goat. "And a place for cats, but a dog? The only dog I've ever seen is a wild one."

Well, I don't exactly plan on attempting to tame a wild dog. Katniss hates wild dogs.

Defeated, I return home. I could order one from the Capitol, but what if we have to send it back? What if Buttercup eats it?

It's still worth a shot.

"Hello? Yes, it's Peeta. I'd like to order a pet dog...What do you mean what kind of dog? A pet dog...Wait, what? Then...a big dog? I don't know, just send something over." I hang up the phone irritably. If I'd known that buying a dog was so complicated, I would have handled that better. What do they do in the Capitol? Deform dogs to make new breeds for fun? Probably. They might even send over a purple dog with bat ears.

I shudder a little just thinking about it.

•~•-•~•

"Peeta! Can you get that?" Katniss yells from upstairs. I think she's having a shower.

So, I jump for the door, opening it to find a cardboard box with holes poked in the top. This has to be the dog.

It's not purple, which is great. But when I picture a dog...I picture a dog differently.

The dog is beige, with its tail coiled up on its back like a Capitol woman's elaborate bun. Its muzzle is pushed into its face like Buttercup's, and they're about the same size.

Puzzled, I reach into the box and pull out a piece of paper with care information. _Pug,_ it declares, right at the top. _Purebred. Bred because the wrinkles on their foreheads resemble the Chinese symbol for luck. Popular breed in the Capitol. Face wrinkles must be cleaned at least once a week. Sensitive to temperature. Walk daily. Do not hold tightly as eyeballs can pop out of skull. Can have breathing problems. Make many sniffles and grunts — not serious. _

I'm not so sure this is the kind of dog Katniss would like.

"Hey, little guy." I say, carefully extracting the pug from the box. "What should I name you?"

The pug grunts.

"Okay, we can figure that out later. Do you like cake, buddy?" The pug jumps at me. I guess that's a yes.

I start towards the kitchen and get out my ingredients while the pug explores our house. Eventually, it (he, I think) trots towards me and watches me stir the batter and pop the cake in the oven.

"That's for Greasy Sae's granddaughter. It's her birthday today."

"Peeta I— what is that?" Katniss is clutching a towel to her chest, and her hair's already braided.

"A dog!" I say ruffling the pug's ears. "How about 'Ruffle'? Do you like that, buddy?" The pug wags his curled tail.

"Peeta, we're not getting a dog and we're not naming it 'Ruffle'." She spits the last word in distaste. Well, Buttercup's not exactly a great name either.

"But I already ordered him..."

"Oh, give him to Greasy Sae's granddaughter."

I do. I still get to see him on weekends.

-•-•~•-•-

"Katniss, how do you feel about turtles?"

"Hate them."

~•~•-•~•~

"So, if we got a pet hamster—"

"No, Peeta."

"Lizard?"

"No."

-•—•~•-•—•-

"Katniss, would you ever get a pet fish?"

"I don't think so."

"How about a chameleon?"

"Nope."

I sigh. So much for ever getting a pet.


	12. I Don't Make Much Progress

**A/N: What's that? I love Hawkeye so much I went and wrote a Clintasha story?**

Yep.

I know you all loved the movie. So go read it, it'll probably be up by tomorrow ;) Huzza! (Why am I suddenly obsessed with using that word on here?)

Also, Buttercup will be making regular appearances now. Huzza! (See what I mean?)

-—-~-—-

"Katniss, what is your favourite thing in the whole world?"

She glances up, still scratching Buttercup absentmindedly. "My one favourite thing?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know...what's your favourite thing?"

I smile. "I have a lot of favourite things: you, sunset, baking, painting, Haymitch, children..."

Katniss scowls. She already sees where this is going.

"Yeah, okay. My favourite thing is killing things with arrows." She smirks. That's obviously not true. Dead animals can't hold you at night. You can't teach a dead animal anything, and they can't protect you.

I make an indignant sound and turn back to my sketch. She told me that I'm not allowed to draw us with children anymore, because it's creepy. I'm drawing one of the girls from the Seam instead. My subject has unusually large, pleading eyes that I'm sure even Haymitch couldn't say 'no' to. I close my eyes, bringing up the girl's face again. She has long brown hair and a purple dress. Her name is Chasity.

"What are you drawing?" Katniss inquires from her chair. She's scooped up Buttercup now, looking a lot like a cat lady even though Katniss was never really a cat person.

"That little girl, Chasity, from the Seam." I say.

Katniss gives me a weird look. "What for?"

I organize my argument carefully in my head. "I paint to release emotions and memories, right? And to make beautiful things." Weakness? How is that a weakness? "And Chasity has incredible eyes. They've been in my head all day." I say, picking up my sketchbook and heading to my painting room.

Katniss follows, still clutching Buttercup. "You don't think that's kind of creepy?"

"What is?" I ask, easing a canvas into place on my favourite easel.

"That you're painting children. Are you going to do a portrait of someone else tomorrow?" Buttercup's yellow eyes follow my hands carefully as I gather the right paints.

"...No," I say. But now that she's brought it to my attention I guess it isn't the best thing I could be painting. I already have hundreds of paintings of the Games tucked away, pent up emotions and images pressed into paper and linen.

"If you say so." Katniss starts out the door. "I'm making lunch. Any requests?"

"You're making lunch?"

"Yeah."

"Sandwiches are fine. I made some croissants yesterday. And I was going to make hot cross buns for breakfast tomorrow." I start sketching Chasity's eyes on my canvas in pencil.

A floorboard creaks as Katniss wanders off to make lunch. When she comes back I've started painting Chasity.

"She's cute." Katniss decides, sticking a plate of grilled cheese in front of me.

"Yeah, I'd want a daughter just like her." I smile, dipping my brush into the brown paint.

"Peeta." Katniss says in her warning/exasperated tone.

"Wouldn't you?"

"I'm not going to answer that."

That comment makes it my sole mission to show children how great children are, which will eventually lead into her wanting some (eventually).

"You know what? I'm out of orange paint. And flour. And probably cheese. Let's go." I abandon my painting for the moment, cleaning off my hands and grabbing some grilled cheese.

"You're out of orange because you use it too much." Katniss points out.

"Yeah, but you can't bake without flour and _you_ won't survive a week without my baking." I flick her braid. "Come on." I take her hand and set out to the merchant part of town. It's pretty cold for late Spring, but kids are playing outside anyway.

"Hi, Peeta!" The baker's son waves at me. I don't sell anything I make, so another family took up the trade. It gives me a kind of weird feeling that I'll put down to nostalgia to see the little boy dragging flour to his family's shop.

"Hi Deffon." I can't help smiling wistfully. What would I name my son if I had one? If I had a daughter I might name her Euphony. I've always loved that word.

"Hello Katniss!" I'm pretty sure he's never met her before; but if I'm holding her hand and she wears a braid, her identity is pretty obvious.

"Hey," Her scowl melts into a smile. "You know, Peeta used to drag flour around too." Deffon's eyes grow wide. Did I just become a role model? I kind of like the idea. "He was a baker's son." Deffon knows that part, but I didn't really detail on what I did. Deffon's old enough to know about the Games, so as far as he knows I didn't even work there, and after I won I renounced that life for Victor Village.

"Peeta, why'd you stop working at the bakery? Why don't you own a bakery instead of my family?"

Well, my family died and I was kidnapped and had my mind violated and twisted until I was a vicious, sadistic killer. Then there was a war and Katniss's sister and Finnick and hundreds of nameless people died. Then I was under the care of a doctor until my mental state improved. Then I came back here to fall for the same girl I always loved.

"I had other priorities." I ruffle Deffon's hair which makes him scowl. He's getting a little old for that, apparently. "Bye Deffon."

"Bye, Peeta!"

I lead Katniss into his family's shop. They always have extra flour and I've been trying to figure out their hot cross bun recipe for a while now.

"Hello Mr. Mayberry." I greet the baker.

"Jarn." He corrects.

"Right, Jarn. Could I get a baker's dozen of your hot cross buns and a thousand grams of flour please?"

Katniss stares at me in shock, like 'how much flour do you need?'. A thousand grams isn't all that much. Nowhere near as much as I —or even Deffon— carried.

Mr. Mayberry comes back with the flour and plucks hot cross buns from the display case and boxes them for us. We thank him and go back out into town.

"Okay...paint and cheese."

"We're always out of cheese." Katniss complains. "I wish we had a goat." No she doesn't. She can't have a goat without Prim.

We pass a bunch of kids playing some weird game with chalk. I know all of them and one girl gives Katniss a flower and tells her she's pretty. And then as we're walking away Katniss looks over at the kids kind of wistfully, which means I'm already winning.

We buy cheese from the goat man, and then pass to the new art supplies store. I got tired from ordering from the Capitol all the time, and a family was going to start selling supplies anyway, which was just convenient for me. I'm their main customer, so they always insist on giving me a discount.

"Do you want to stop?" I ask, as Katniss pauses to stare at the meadow. There's so many people buried there it's easy to believe that Prim is there too.

"No," Katniss whispers. "I just want to go home."


	13. Katniss Plays Teacher

**A/N: Well, Kilalahinanaruto555, those names come from my own lovely head. I was kind of in a hurry with the name Jarn though. Plus he's not a cutesy little kid, so...**

**The Girl From The Seam: Canadian, actually. XD Is it because of my wonderful 'ou's?**

**And I got to see Avengers again. And it's still too awesome for words. And I made my cousin wait the whole credits with me to watch the Shawarma scene (she said it wasn't worth it. Pssh) hahaha.**

**I kind of hate the thought of them growing up. Can't they be seventeen and a half forever? D':**

**Except then I couldn't write this.**

"You know how the twelve year olds are doing a unit on...the Games in school?" I ask hesitantly, because I don't think even I like this plan.

Katniss flinches. "Yes?" We really need a codeword. 'The Games' isn't good enough.

"One of the teachers...Ms. Stillblue, asked if we could maybe come in and talk about it." When I came up with the idea, I was wishing we could teach about something else. But Ms. Stillblue asked anyway.

"Why us?" Katniss whispers. The answer should be obvious. We were in them. The last two. And you can't bring someone as drunk as Haymitch in to teach.

"You know why," I mumble, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She jerks away and starts braiding her hair like it can keep the memories away.

"I don't want to."

I hold out my hands helplessly, longing to hold her with them. "I know. I'm going to, though. You know what the doctor says about facing memories."

Katniss rubs her eyes with her palms and then stares at me. "I swear, if this is one of your stupid schemes..."

"It's not," I say, because I only really wanted her near children. I was hoping we could teach about edible plants or something. "Ms. Stillblue called me. It was her idea. You can check with her if you want to."

Katniss whirls away from me, tucking the corners of the blankets in our bed in, even though she hates making beds and prefers the sheets out.

"Can you think about it? It'll be next Thursday."

Katniss gives me a hard look. She can't seem to think of anything to say, so she goes back to folding laundry. (See Katniss? You can be a mom.)

-—- -—-

Thursday.

I used to really like Thursdays. My mom would usually be in a better mood, school tended to give out easier assignments, and there was always someone who wanted a cake from the bakery.

Of course, I don't have any of those things anymore.

"Katniss," I mumble against my pillow as she creeps from the room. I've gotten better at noticing when she leaves.

I sit up, scrubbing sleep from my eyes. "You never gave me an answer. Are we going?"

"Peeta..." Her bottom lip trembles slightly. It's such a tiny, insignificant quiver that only I would notice. I shift my gaze to her grey eyes, usually so stormy. Now they look shaken, vulnerable. Like rocks after they've crumbled.

"Katniss, I promise we can do this. I'll be there. I already made a speech. All you have to do is stand there and look pretty," I say, smiling and dropping a line I world usually never use.

"I don't..."

"Katniss, don't make me do this alone." I plead. "I already told Ms. Stillblue I would do it." I guess maybe there's something fragile in my eyes because she strides to my side and takes my hand.

"Sometimes I really hate you," Katniss says, tracing circles on the back of my hand. She sighs, meeting my gaze. "But, okay. I'll do it."

\-_-_-_-/

"Ready?"

Katniss takes in a shuddering breath, snatching up my hand. We draw strength in each other. "Yeah."

I know she sees Prim in every hallway we walk down. She might even see Gale. Most of the school survived when District 12 burned. I recognize the courtyard, the spot where Katniss and Madge would eat lunch. I wonder if she's seeing ghosts of me in these half-familiar hallways.

"Ms. Stillblue?"

"Peeta! I'm so glad you could come! And Katniss!" Ms. Stillblue beams encouragingly. "The kids will be here in a moment."

"Okay." I stand awkwardly at the front of the class. I've never wanted to be a teacher. I love kids, but I don't want to explain about math and science and wars I wish hadn't happened. You always lose something in a war. Not just people you cared about, but a piece of yourself.

The kids come in bunches or by themselves, all in the span of about three minutes. I'm pretty sure they have assigned seats. Katniss fidgets. The kids stare at our interlocked fingers for so long that I let go.

"Class," Ms. Stillblue starts, blue eyes shimmering as she grins. "We have two very special guests today."

I'm not sure why we're so special. Sure, we survived the Games, twice. Sure, we played a vital part in the war. But we're a part of District 12. They see us every other day. They're not so young that they haven't known us from before the Games. We're not big celebrities anymore.

I recognize a few faces. Chasity's sister is there. And I spot Deffon, which makes me smile.

"Since we're doing a unit on the Hunger Games, Peeta and Katniss are going to tell us a little bit about them." Ms. Stillblue smiles.

"Right." I say, about to continue and dive into my carefully-prepared speech. I asked Ms. Stillblue what she wanted the theme to be and what she wanted me to cover, but she just smiled and said that wasn't necessary. They were old enough to know the basics of the Games, so I directed it to the Capitol's point of view and the emotional side for a tribute. No details on how we won (they're old enough to know, and they don't need to learn about survival because there won't be any more Games).

"Stop, Peeta." Ms. Stillblue interrupts as I read the first sentence of my introduction. "We're doing this a little differently. The children are going to ask questions and you'll answer them. It stimulates their learning and curiosity." I stare down at my now-useless speech.

"How many people did you kill?" One kid demands. He watched the Games. He probably knows very well.

I look up sharply. I feel like he just threw a knife at my gut. It's not hard to imagine Foxface leering over my shoulder, pressing poisonous berries to my mouth or a knife to my throat.

"Pablo!" Ms. Stillblue scolds. "That's not an appropriate question! Yes, Emilexi?"

"How does it feel to have killed someone?" I don't know what's with these kids and killing. Do they think it's a game? Deffon looks absolutely terrified.

I blink, piecing words together and trying to find the right one. 'Terrible' and 'horrible' don't fit. Nothing does. "Haunting." I say finally. "The guilt will haunt you for the rest of your life." It's not something you should say to children. But it's something they should know. Katniss still has nightmares of all the deaths she feels responsible for. Rue, Prim, Finnick, Marvel, Madge, Glimmer...there's more. They're not all her kills, and the ones that aren't she thinks are her fault: Prim, Finnick, Madge, Rue, hundreds of people from District 12.

"How did you know about the berries?" One girl pipes up. I glance at Katniss.

"I know a lot about plants." Katniss says, and I can tell by her tone that she's thinking about Rue.

"How does it feel to be a Victor?"

"If you could go to any District, where would you go?"

"Did you kill someone just because you didn't like them?"

"What's the best food from the Capitol?"

"Why do you always braid your hair?"

"Do you like having a fake leg? Is it better than a real one?"

"Do people in the Capitol have purple eyes?"

"Are you good with any weapons besides the bow?"

"Peeta, are you good with any weapons?"

"Can you shoot a gun?"

There's a thousand other questions. I thought I was used to kids asking so many (although never about the Games), but so many kids at once is overwhelming. No wonder I'd never be a teacher.

As we're walking out of the school, Katniss wraps an arm around me and whispers "You know? That actually wasn't so bad."


	14. Babysitting

**A/N: ONE HUNDRED REVIEWS.**

**Wow.**

**Thank you so much, everyone! Even those of you who only reviewed one chapter, and especially those of you who have been following this story every step of the way. Seriously, thank you so much. Pretend I sent you a box of chocolates or something.**

"Okay, guys! Your mom said you already had lunch, so—"

"Peeta!"

I glance up. Katniss is crouching on the stairs, eyes wide in horror.

"Who are they?"

I roll my eyes. "Guys, this is Katniss. Katniss, these are Mr. and Mrs. Ly's kids, Alya and Pedin." I pat their heads. Pedin has thick brown hair that he doesn't like getting cut, and Alya's wavy blonde hair is all the way down to her waist.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" She hisses.

"Sure." I smile at Pedin and Alya. "There's some board games on the coffee table, why don't you pick out one to play?"

"Okay, Peeta!" Pedin calls, and the two race each other to the living room. I laugh a little. How can Katniss not want children?

"Why are they here?" Katniss looks a little bit petrified now. Maybe she thinks I'm trying to adopt them or something.

"I'm babysitting them."

She gives me an odd look. Katniss has been acting a little weird lately. "Okay. Why?"

"Because Mrs. Ly needed a babysitter and I offered."

"Why? It's not like we need the money." Katniss crosses her arms, glaring at me a little. She'll probably be normal again next week.

"Well, maybe I wanted a little taste of what it would be like to have kids."

Katniss raises an eyebrow. "Twelve year olds babysit."

"I never did." She didn't either. Who has time to babysit when they're trying to keep their family alive? I don't think anyone in District 12 babysat before the war. Now people want a lot mire free time, or to enjoy the luxury of going out.

"Did you guys pick a game?" I ask, peering into the living room.

"Yep!" Pedin hefts a board game above his head, and I find myself praying it's not the Hunger Games game, even though I know that's locked safely in the attic.

"Monopoly," I read with a smile. I can hear Katniss make an irritated grunt from the kitchen. She hates Monopoly.

"I'll be the racecar!" Pedin cries. Everyone always wants to Bethesda racecar. Alya silently picks up the horse.

"I'll be the thimble." I say with a smile. Katniss says I smile too easily, but kids are the most adorable things ever. "Katniss, you playing?"

She doesn't make a sound. Guess not.

"Can I go first?" Pedin asks.

"Sure."

We end up playing for three hours before Alya finally bankrupts me. Pedin had been out for forty-five minutes by then, but was happy to watch. Their concentration and persistence surprised me, though. Normally, children switch actinides every half hour. Somehow Alya and Pedin had managed to stick through the whole game and laugh at the end.

"What do you guys want to do now?" I ask, stretching. I've been sitting for too long, I think. Sometimes if I sit for too long it has...consequences.

"Again!" Pedin cries, scooping up all the money and organizing it to hand out again. Alya readily nods in agreement. I've never seen kids so focused and persistent.

"Are we being the same pieces?" I ask, shuffling the Treasure Chest cards.

Alya and Pedin nod in unison.

"Can I be the iron?" I turn around with a grin. Katniss is leaning in the doorway, almost smiling; it looks like she's been there for a long time.

"You sure you want to play?" I tease, jumping to my feet.

"Why? Are you scared I'm going to beat you?" Katniss smirks, stepping closer.

"No. But I think Alya's going to beat both of us." Katniss arches an eyebrow and shoots me a conspiratorial wink.

"Yeah!" Pedin high-fives his sister.

"Are you guys hungry?" Katniss questions, leaning down so she's at their level. At least she's feeling better.

"Yes," Pedin answers for both of them.

"Well, Peeta made mini-croissants this morning, would you like some?"

"Yes!" Pedin cries, tossing some of the Monopoly money in the air.

"Please." Alya adds pointedly. It's the first thing she's said all day.

"I'll get them." Katniss smiles, and there's something strange in her eyes. She likes them. Maybe I should babysit more often, or at least until she agrees to have kids. I have to admit, it's a much better tactic than anything else on my list.

"Okay, after this game it's dinner and then you can watch some T.V., and then you'll be going home." Their parents said they'd be back by seven.

Katniss comes back with the tiny croissants and we start playing. I spend the whole game trying not to be destroyed by Katniss (who has made it her sole mission to bankrupt me) or Alya: who is, once again, kicking everyone's butt. Pedin and I loose all our money and houses after the first hour, and Katniss and Alya keep going for another hour before Katniss decides Monopoly takes too long and quits. Pedin and I play with his cars while we wait.

Katniss insists on playing hide 'n' seek with them while I make dinner; and by six o' clock, both kids have fallen asleep: Alya on Katniss's lap and Pedin leaning on her shoulder. Katniss is watching their show with a horrified expression when I finish washing dishes and join her.

"So...was babysitting really that bad?"

Katniss glances at me with a reluctant smile. "Nope. It was actually...fun."


	15. Katniss Learns The Art Of Corny Jokes

**A/N: I'm going to apologize for this chapter right now. We were having pitas for dinner a couple weeks ago, and every time my brother said 'pita' I thought he was saying 'Peeta' and this was born. So...sorry.**

**I'm going to apologize for the terrible jokes I used, too. But...kids think they're funny, right?**

-~-~—~-~-

"Since I can't convince you to stop trying to convince me to have kids, I'm going to convince you that you don't want any."

I look up sharply from my pancakes —which are like, the easiest things in the world to bake. "What?"

"I'm going to convince you not to have kids." Katniss states flatly, crossing her arms.

"Good luck," I snort, flipping a pancake. (I really need to start spending more time with people who aren't Katniss.)

Katniss scowls. "It won't be that hard."

I smile wryly. "Well, what are you going to do?"

Katniss reaches over to pluck a peach from our fruit bowl. "You know how kids are always telling terrible jokes?" She takes a bite, juice running down her chin.

"Yeah, I love those." I smile wistfully, scooping the pancakes out of the pan and onto a plate. "They're cute."

Katniss smirks, licking the dripping juice from her peach. "You won't think so after I'm done with you." She jumps from her seat and waltzes off to grab her bow, leaving me with way more pancakes than just one person can eat.

**~{~}~**

"Peeta! Why did the cookie go to the doctor?" Katniss pops up in front of me, making me spill my lemonade.

"I'm not sure. Why?"

"Because it was feeling crummy!" She pauses, waiting for my reaction. When I do nothing, she frowns. "I learned that one from Chasity."

"It's a cute joke," I try with a smile. Katniss scowls.

"I'm going to the market to see if I can hear any more."

Katniss practically runs back inside. "Okay, I've got one!" I can't remember the last time I've seen her so excited. "Knock knock."

"Who's there?" I ask, painting a long streak of purple-blue. No, it's still not blue enough.

"Boo!" Katniss is starting to look a little angry now, like she's just realized her joke is terrible.

"Boo who?"

"Don't cry, it's only a joke." She says in a voice that means you should be crying.

"Okay, Katniss," I grin. I have this odd desire to ruffle her hair like she is a little kid that I push aside.

"What are we having for dinner?"

"Whatever you want." I smile, stirring the purple paint again and mixing in a little more blue.

"Pitas."

"What?"

"I want a pita for dinner." Katniss clarifies, taking one of my brushes and dropping it in the red paint.

"I'm not edible." I point out, because I'm not really sure where she's trying to go with this.

Katniss rolls her eyes. "Pita. P-I-T-A. As in the food."

I raise an eyebrow. "Okay." I don't think I've ever made one before. I'm a baker, not a cook, but I still end up making breakfast and we trade off lunch and dinner. Katniss mostly makes things involving meat or soup or edible plants.

"Good," She's grinning now. "Peeta." I can't tell if she's saying my name or a food.

I regret the pitas.

Katniss spends all of dinner saying 'pita' or 'Peeta' and laughing hysterically like a little kid and then frowning. It almost looks like it's painful for her to keep this up.

I could take maybe another three hours before I go insane.

"There's no guarantee our children will do that." I point out after dinner, passing Katniss a clean plate to dry.

"Why's that?" She asks, rubbing her temple in the spot that means she has a headache.

"Well, for one thing, you'd probably kill them."

Katniss's tired face breaks into my favourite smile, like the sun rising. Then she throws her arms around my neck. "You're amazing."

"I know," I smile. "I love you."

"I love you too."


	16. The Pros of Children

**A/N: THANK YOU FOR YOUR REVIEWS! I know I made a big deal about reviews a couple chapters ago (100s, Woot woot) but there were so many guests who made me smile with their amazing reviews (you guys should get accounts so I can actually thank you properly (: ) that I had to do thanks again.**

**I have to start re-reading this series again. They're starting to get OOC.**

"Can we have macaroni and cheese for dinner?"

It's like something psychologically clicks in my brain and I jump to my feet.

Katniss glances up in surprise. "What? It's just macaroni."

We never eat macaroni because I don't like it. But kids love Mac 'n' cheese. "If we had kids you could have macaroni more often." I say.

"Peeta, I know you. You won't make macaroni more just because of children."

"Yes, I will. Children take up more time so they need dinners that can be made faster than my baking. And they love macaroni." I argue.

Katniss stares at me. "That's not a very good argument to convince me to have kids."

I shrug. "Sometimes the small points are the turning points."

She raises an eyebrow. "You'll need a few more 'small points', Peeta."

"Peeta, there's a new letter from Annie." Katniss says, waving the envelope over her head with one hand as she sorts mail with the other.

"Thank you," I say, easing it from her fingers. Annie added some pictures of her eighteen month old son fingerpainting. Sometimes Katniss sneaks into my painting room and tries to make something. She usually fives up and the next morning I find it full of fingerpaintings. Some people can make incredible art with only their hands.

Not Katniss.

"If we had kids, they'd think your fingerpainting was incredible."

Katniss stares at me. "I don't need flattery from children. Besides, they'd be my kids. They're not going to tell me it's ugly."

"Yeah, but then you'd have someone to paint with."

"I could paint with you if I really wanted to."

"Point taken." I grumble.

-;;•

"Katniss, look!" I call, leaning out the window.

"What?" She mumbles, shuffling over. She's wearing her bathrobe and her hair's all wet (but not braided yet, so she probably just got out of the shower).

I point to the kids. The path connecting Victor Village to the newly rebuilt square is being covered in a chalky mural. The children are blending all their colours to paint flowers and dragons across the path.

Katniss looks at me seriously. "Peeta. Grab the sidewalk chalk."

"We don't have any chalk." I point out. I just wanted her to see the mural.

"Yes, we do. It's in the pantry." She's starting to get short-tempered with me. Someone really wants to play with chalk.

"You keep chalk in our pantry?" Because really, who does that? What if it got crushed and I mixed it up with flour or icing sugar?

"Yes," Katniss says as I grab the chalk pail. I guess it's not that big a deal, but it's still a strange place to keep chalk. "Come on." She grabs my hand and races outside, grabbing us the biggest square of space.

"You know that adults can't just run out and play chalk unless kids are out here, right."

"Shut up, Peeta." She says, grabbing a blue chalk and starting to scribble something on the pavement. A couple kids glance over at us.

I take out an orange from our pail and start drawing the basic lines of a human face, adding grey eyes and arched eyebrows.

"I'll trade you sea green for that purple." Katniss offers some kid who happily hands her a stormy purple.

I smile and switch my grey and black chalk for a soft pink, somewhere between salmon and blush: half a shade off of Katniss's lips.

"What are you drawing?" Katniss inquires, leaning over my shoulder. She's probably finished her's by now.

"You'll see when I'm finished." I say, edging to the left so she can't see my mural. She frowns and I tap her nose teasingly. "What are you making?"

"'You'll see when I'm finished.'" She mimics, sliding off my shoulder.

Chalk is a strange media. It gives a lot of texture (too much usually, especially if you colour too lightly) and blends really well. Blending can make the texture a lot smother than the rest though, and you have to shade over areas a few times to keep the gravel from poking out. It can break too (as Katniss and a few other children prove every few minutes), and the dust can mess up your colours or art. Overall, it's an interesting media, but it takes a lot of work and can be a lot less forgiving. Even if you go over your mistakes or try to fix colours, it still shows through (much like watercolour paint).

"Finished." I say finally, dusting off my hands. Katniss glances up from the massive dragon she's been drawing with the children. All of her scales are green.

"Really? Let's see." Katniss scrambles over with five or six children at her heels. She stares at my art for a while and then scowls. "Wow, Peeta. I love it. Way to make me feel shallow and unloving, though."

"What did you draw?" I ask, moving away from my portrait of her that has now attracted the attention of several kids.

Katniss picks up a piece of yellow chalk as I stare at her drawing. It's a storm by the ocean, with waves smashing at the land. The purple looks great actually, and she blended the sea green and blue really well.

"Katniss, this is amazing." She gives me a look like she finds that funny. Art is definitely not her thing.

"It's not finished yet." She defends, carefully drawing something in sunny yellow chalk and then sitting back on her heels. "There."

Sitting on the highest point of the land, glowing against the dark landscape, is a dandelion.

-;;•

"You know what I learned this week, Peeta?" Katniss asks aas we're sitting on the couch watching T.V. We don't do that much, but sometimes it's nice.

"What?"

"Kids are mostly an excuse to be a kid. Or so you don't look stupid fingerpainting."


	17. I Fall Out Of A Tree

**A/N: I'm so sorry about last week. I was on some hardcore vacation time and forgot to tell you all. As an apology I finished up a Finnick oneshot called 'Poison' for you guys :).**

**I have been waiting to use this idea since chapter two. No joke. Originally, I wanted this to be chapter twenty five, but my ideas have been so lax I have to use stuff from my plans for later. Seriously. Last week's I made up on like Thursday and then had only four days to write it :/.**

**So...enjoy. This should be another funny/fluffy chapter (enjoy them while they last, I have something pretty dark planned).**

**To the Guest who said their long review was probably boring: Thank you so much :) I love long reviews actually, and yours was incredibly flattering. Thank you!**

**Also: I'll try to do some editing this week. So, if there are any updates before next Monday, don't get excited.**

**That will be all :)**

-))•

I think I really hate the woods.

It's obviously Katniss's element, but I feel out of place. Like using sugar instead of salt.

"Are we almost there?"

"We should be close." Katniss says, easing a branch out of her way. "Nevermind, found it."

"Wow." I say. It's the most dandelions I've seen in one place, dying the entire hillside yellow, like the weeds have stolen the sun's colours.

Katniss elbows me. "Start grabbing. We only have a few hours to collect."

I grunt, but pluck up a handful anyway. "Next time you should find a mother-load a little closer to the fence." I drop them in the basket Katniss made sure to bring.

"It wasn't that bad. A ninety-minute walk could be a lot worse." Katniss tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, dumping fistful after fistful of dandelions into her basket.

"For you. I spend most of my time inside. Like an indoor cat."

"There's no such thing as an indoor cat."

"Yes, there is." I tease, throwing a mistakenly grabbed handful of grass at her. "You've just never owned one."

Katniss protests by lightly shoving me down the hill. I roll down it, flattening dandelions in my path. My body slams into a rock, but not hard enough to bruise. I close my eyes and let out a fake moan of pain anyway.

"Peeta?" She calls from the top of the hill, braid swinging against the blue sky.

I respond with another cry of pain, this time much quieter.

"Peeta!" I can't actually hear her footsteps —she's always quiet when she's in the woods— but I can sense them tumbling down the hillside. Suddenly, something drops beside me. Katniss. "Peeta," She breathes, close to my ear. "Are you okay?"

My eyes flash open and I snatch her before she has a chance to respond. "Better than okay," I say, kissing her temple.

"You shouldn't do that." Katniss complains, crossing her arms but letting my lips skim her skin anyway.

"Sorry," I apologize halfheartedly, kissing her softly.

"Let me go, we have to go collect all the dandelions." Katniss wriggles in my grasp, pushing her palms against my chest and thrashing her legs.

"Why?" I complain, nuzzling her hair.

"Because," She gives me a hard look and keeps squirming. "They're all going to turn white by tomorrow."

"Dandelions don't change all at once, Katniss. They'll still be here tomorrow."

"Yeah, but I want dandelion soup today. Besides, it might rain tomorrow." She fixes her silver gaze on the sky, trying to think of a better way to escape.

"It's the middle of summer, Katniss. I promise it won't rain." I say, stroking her hair.

"What if it does?"

"Then you get to say 'I told you so'." I compromise, releasing her. We finish collecting the dandelions in silence. When we're halfway home, Katniss pauses.

"Peeta," She glances at me, and her eyes are wide with fear. "Start climbing that tree." Katniss points to one with a few low branches so I can manage to get up.

"What is it?" I ask, but start climbing anyway, fumbling because of the bucket and my leg.

"Wild dogs." She says, finally scrambling up after me, but with much more ease. I keep climbing until she decrees that we are high enough, even though I know she could get a lot higher.

It's weird, being up in a tree. I can see the dogs running past below us, stopping to sniff the trunk and giving up with disgruntled growls. Katniss waits silently for a while, like she is counting her heartbeats, until she finally moves.

"It's safe now," Katniss tells me, starting to climb down the tree. She hardly has to try.

I carefully move my foot from the branch I was sitting on, shifting it onto the next limb. As I place my bad leg on the next branch it slips, sending me flailing and falling to the ground. The impact is like being stabbed in the back, or thrown onto concrete. I try to groan, but my lungs don't even have enough air to breathe with.

"Peeta? Peeta, I swear, if you're faking again I will kill you." There was a sound of scrabbling against bark. I couldn't see straight, but my hearing worked just fine. "With an arrow." More scratching noises. "And I won't give you a chance to run." There was a thump as she landed near me. "Peeta?"

"Katniss," I gasp finding just enough air in my lungs to breathe her name.

"Peeta," Her hand stroked the side of my face gently. "I'm going to roll you, okay? Where does it hurt?"

_Everywhere,_I want to say, but I didn't have any words.

"Oh." Katniss whispers. "You landed on a really sharp rock. Um...you're bleeding. I'm going to carry you back, okay?"

I want to protest. I could carry her pretty easily, but there's no way she could take my weight.

Katniss makes it anyway. I'm not conscious for most of it, but somehow we end up at the fence.

"Katniss!" A voice calls. "Need help?"

And suddenly I'm in a wheelbarrow and being pushed home.

~•~€•~*~

The next thing I know, I'm in our bed, with a bandage around my head and Katniss's hand laced with mine.

"You're awake." She says quietly, stroking the back of my hand and leaning her head on my shoulder. Katniss lets out a shaky laugh. I worried her, and that hurts even worse. "Do you want anything?"

"Kids." I rasp.

"Peeta!" Her face is a mix of angry and scared and frustrated and worried and broken. "This is not the time to be trying to convince me to have children."

"Please?" I say, moving our hands to her face.

"You're hardly in any condition to have kids, Peeta. I think you have a concussion." She picks up a wet cloth with her spare hand.

I make a protesting sound and try to say more, but I slip back into unconsciousness.


	18. The List

**A/N: So, I go write you guys a one-shot and no one reads it? Wow, I feel loved.**

**Joking! I love you guys! Shoutout to WaffleNinja, Lemon-made, singerbrat, and anna6045. Oh, and Kilalahinanaruto555 as always. WaffleNinja and Lemon-made because they've been following this for so long and I love their comments :). Seriously, you guys are so sweet.**

**singerbrat: Oh my goodness, your review was incredible! Thanks so much. I'm definitely not as good as you are at writing reviews.**

**anna6045: I was all 'sdlkaflasjq' when I read your review! Thank you!**

**I love you all! *feels like an Internet creeper***

~-~-*****#}##%%%%%%

Not very many people appreciate the wonders of lists.

Maybe it's a Victor thing to like them. I haven't seen Haymitch write a list in his life, not even a grocery list, but he somehow always knows what kind of liquor he's short on. I'm not sure how a drunk remembers these things.

Katniss keeps lists of kind things, her own little game she plays with herself. I find them on the counter sometimes, and I know she has a whole stack hiding somewhere. Annie keeps lists too, now that she doesn't have Finnick to being her back from her daydreams. Lists of what keeps her focused, what wakes her up at night.

I don't keep lists as much. Painting is a much better release: the memories are so much more vivid if they're coloured instead of black and white words on a page. My list of Ways To Convince Katniss is the only thing I write down.

Lists are not only great for memories, they're great for persuasion. Rather than write out a whole persuasive paragraph, you can just list things (persuasive paragraphs are a list anyway).

So, here I am, at three in the morning, writing a list.

-~-~-#*#*#

"Peeta?" Someone's tapping my shoulder.

"Hmm?" I mumble.

"Why are you sleeping all the way over here?" I glance up, and Katniss is hugging herself like she's about to fall apart. Of course she would notice that I left. How many nightmares did I make her suffer for a stupid list?

"I was making this." I flutter the paper with one hand, rubbing my eyes with the other.

"What is it?"

"Just a list," I respond. She can tell from my expression that she'll find out later.

"Okay. I'm going to go make pancakes."

"Katniss, wait." I snatch up one of her hands, studying her beautiful grey eyes. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" She says, but we both know.

"For the nightmares."

"It's not your fault," She says, but I know it is. Tonight's nightmares are all my responsibility.

~-#*%^

Katniss takes the list from my hands as I grab a plate of pancakes. "No breakfast until I see this." She scowls, eyes scanning over my messy three-in-the-morning scrawl. I sneak a few bites of pancake while she reads.

When I glance up, she's smiling wistfully. "This won't work either, Peeta."

I study her face carefully. There's a glint in her eye that makes me think that isn't entirely true.

-~-~%#%#^*^*^

A List Of Why Katniss And I Should Have Kids  
By Peeta Mellark

•They're cute.  
•They're entertaining.  
•You can teach them things.  
•They'd be the perfect combination of you and I.  
•You can watch them grow.  
•They'll admire you.  
•They're easily amazed.  
•They're an excuse to be a kid again.  
•They're funny.  
•They're adventurous.  
•They're creative.  
•You know you secretly love kids.  
•You can take care of them.  
•They'll make you smile.  
•They know that people are more important than things.  
•They'll understand you.  
•They'll comfort you.  
•They'll prove that we're not the only ones who get nightmares.  
•They teach you things without you realizing it.  
•They'll be your family.  
•They'll always be there.  
•They'll fulfill your need to protect.  
•They make memories.  
•They'll love you until the day after forever.

(•I'm already unbelievably lucky to have you, but children would make me even luckier. )


	19. I Play The Pity Card

**A/N: And here is the dark chapter, as promised.**

**I re-read bits of Catching Fire and Mockingjay last week, and it totally renewed my PeetaxKatniss obsession. They're just...perfect. 3**

**I updated early (updates are still Mondays, guys) because I'm going vacationing (again) and forgot to tell you (again). This is about twice as long, as an apology for all the short chapters recently and a thanks to everyone who has called me a great writer. It's also where it's revealed that angst is really what I'm best at.**

"Good morning." I say, turning a page in my book as Katniss waltzes inside with her game bag bursting. It's far past morning, but that doesn't matter.

I jerk my head towards her for a kiss — which she ignores, until I stand and grab her wrists to make her look at me. She's smiling teasingly.

I take a hesitant step backward as her smile changes into a snarl. My fingers twitch against my will, into a grip that must hurt her. I glare at my hands like that will make them let go.

It's too late, though. The memories are flooding over me: Katniss holding out berries, telling me they're my dinner (I didn't know it then, but they're Nightlock); an arrow pointing out from a tree, my feet strategically stuck in her quicksand trap as she fires; Katniss handcuffing me to a pole and leaving me there to starve to death. I can feel my hands jerking, searching for her throat. So I can kill her. Pay her back for all those times she tried to kill me. My hands are searching, and the memories are all I can see.

They find something other than her windpipe. My fingers close around it without my control, and soon I'm gripping it like it's my only hold to life. The small, rational part of my brain is telling me that I'm holding the back of a chair. Rationality doesn't matter though. The only thing that matters to me is that Katniss is dead.

Memories are waging a war in my head. The bloodlust is winning, but my hands won't let go of the chair. I can't hear Katniss. I can't hear anything but the blood roaring in my ears.

I want Katniss dead. No words have been truer.

There's a hand on my back. I thrash, trying to find its owner. What do they think they're doing? No one can stop me. I'll die if that means I'll see Katniss dead.

"Peeta,"

A voice is calling me, but I can't tell who it is. The roaring and the memories are far too loud.

Katniss is pushing me. I can hear the snapping jaws of the mutts, their savage barks, the strange screams. I fall from the Cornucopia to the mutts below.

"Peeta, look at me." My face jerks in the direction of the voice. It's Katniss.

My teeth grit and my hands clench even tighter. I want her neck in my hands, not a chair.

The small, rational part is listening to her. It's fighting the rest of me, the parts that want to kill her.

Fighting is like sticking a hand inside you and twisting up your organs. It hurts, and it's hard. But the rational part of me keeps fighting.

You love her, it chants. Over and over so I don't forget.

She betrayed me. The killing side calls back, but the rational part screams louder.

And finally the twisted, false memories end, and I can see again. Katniss's grey eyes are filled with concern. I take a shaky breath, removing my fingers from the chair one by one. I flex them carefully, only watching the muscles pull in my hands. Making sure they're mine to control.

Cautiously, I rest a hand on Katniss's arm. It doesn't clench up, which makes me relax a little.

"Are you okay?" I ask, right before she does. Katniss's eyes narrow in response, but she can't even pretend to be mad at me after one of my fits.

I give her a gentle smile in response. "I'm okay."

"Well, I'm fine. I'm not the one who..."

I trail my hand up her arm gently, watching the goosebumps following my fingers. "I don't want to hurt you." I whisper, meeting her gaze. "I would hate to hurt you."

"I know," Katniss sighs. "And I hate seeing you like this."

I smile at her and stroke her face gently. "I'll be okay. As long as I have you, nothing can hurt me."

Katniss shoots me an uncertain look but accepts my kiss anyway.

-—•~=

"Something smells good," Katniss comments: leaning on the railing as she comes down the stairs and rubbing her eyes.

"Cinnamon and brown sugar waffles." I say with a smile. "There's apple crisp muffins too."

Katniss practically runs to the table and sits down without another word, snatching up two freshly baked muffins. I laugh at her antics and start scooping batter into the waffle-maker with a wooden spoon.

The feeling wells up in me suddenly, without my control. I'm dimly aware of the spoon dropping from my hands, clattering against the ground. I'm dimly aware of my hands clenching into fists, my muscles tightening. The flashbacks are the only things I can sense strongly.

Katniss is kneeling beside bloodied bodies, bodies of my friends. Their blood shimmers with a strange orange light, but that doesn't matter. She killed them. She blew up District 12. She destroyed my family.

How many times has she tried to kill me? I can't count all the times she's betrayed me or hurt me. I remember reading somewhere that giving someone a second chance is like giving them a second bullet to shoot you with. I must have given Katniss a dozen arrows.

There's blood on her hands —the blood of my friends— and she's staring up at me. My mind registers that I must be next. I scramble backward as she starts to stand.

The memory switches abruptly to something I'm sure I haven't seen. Katniss is kissing Gale, running her hands under his shirt as he pulls her close. Some other emotion is thrown in with my intense hatred for Katniss, and my fear or her. Part of me wonders why I care that she's kissing Gale. She's a mutt, she can kiss whoever she wants to. It won't matter as long as she's dead.

I fight against it. It matters that she's kissing Gale because it means she's not kissing me. Part of me is disgusted by this idea; encouraging me to find her and kill her. The rest of me fights.

Eventually, I break free, exhausted and gasping from the images in my head. Katniss is staring at me with obvious concern.

"Peeta?" She starts toward me hesitantly, resting an arm on my shoulder.

"I'm okay." I say, but my voice shakes. Katniss shoots me the most pitying look I've ever seen. A memory echoes in my head of our first conversation when I was hijacked. I said something about her not being very nice, especially after all I'd been through. I remember thinking she wasn't capable of pity.

"Peeta," Her arms close around me. I must look like I'm about to fall apart. "That's two flashbacks in two days. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Fine," I whisper against her skin, stirring her loose hair.

Katniss sighs, leaning into me for a moment and then pulls back. "I'll make breakfast. You just relax."

I try to protest, but she silences me with a few kisses and then orders me to the couch.

-~-_—•—-

I can sense my control loosening, hanging by threads. The flashbacks come, waging war on my mind like they're battling for a country. This can't be happening. I've had flashbacks every day for a week now. This is not normal.

Until now, they'd mostly died down. Katniss and I had gone out more. This week they've decided to hit me with everything they have.

I keep seeing Nightlock, everywhere. The rational part of me tells me that the only reason I know what they are is because of Katniss, and the hijacked part protests that that is because she tried to kill me with them.

_"Together," _She says, and I feel the cold berries against my lips. To save her life I start to swallow, but then I realize she threw her's on the ground. She wants to kill me.

"Peeta!" The real Katniss screams, and suddenly I fight harder, and finally I'm free.

My hands are clenched on the back of a kitchen chair. Katniss just came back with the groceries, but they're sprawled on the ground and she's hovering over me. Waiting for me to come back.

"Peeta, you're okay." She looks like three hundred pound bags of flour have dropped from her shoulders. Katniss laughs shakily, stroking hair out of my face.

"Yeah," I sigh, leaning into her touch. Suddenly, her hand moves, and when I glance up her face is twisted in fury.

"That's the seventh time this week, Peeta. If he weren't already dead, I'd kill Snow." She scowls, plucking up a few groceries like she wants to crush them in her hands.

I smile. She's amazing and beautiful and protective and determined and incredible, but she can also be violent. "But he is dead, Katniss. I'm going to call Dr. Aurelius, okay? Maybe he can help." I kiss her forehead gently and reach for the phone.

~;-—

On the eighth day of flashbacks, Katniss shifts from angry to broken.

"How can I help you, Peeta?" She asks, leaning her forehead against mine almost despondently. Katniss doesn't just give up, though.

"Give me kids?" I plead.

She glances up to see if I'm joking. I'm not. "I don't see how that will help."

"It would be easier to bear if I had children. I fight so I can come back to you, but maybe they'd be shorter if I had even more to fight for." I say, clasping her hands and holding them between us.

"Peeta..."

"Just think about it, okay?"

Katniss sighs, and I feel it through all the places we're touching. "Fine. When are you seeing Dr. Aurelius?"

"Tomorrow at three. Coming with me?"

"Yes." She says. We stand in silence for a long time. "If it happens again, even if I'm sleeping, tell me, okay?"

I give her hands a squeeze. "I will."

"Promise me. Even if I'm sleeping, just scream." Katniss searches my eyes.

"I promise."

~-~/•\

Dr. Aurelius suggests it could be because of stress, or that more Tracker Jacket poison got injected into my system. He runs some tests and promises to call with the results and final diagnosis. Katniss falls asleep on the train ride home. I tuck her in bed and bake her some cheese buns.

The rest of the month, I have no more flashbacks.


	20. What To Do In A Power Outage

**A/N: I don't know why you all think I don't like long reviews. I love long reviews!**

A Guest: Haha, you're right: I do have an idea for the last chapter (had it since the Prologue, actually ;) ). And honestly, this is only the second suggestion I've gotten (I think the other one was flutterbee). I love that people are into this enough to make suggestions, especially since I'm not the type to ask for them. I won't use them right now, particularly since they'd take quite a bit of twisting and research. But thanks :)

My Biggest Fan: Thanks so much! I'll be sure to tell you when I send my book to a publisher and about the release date and stuff.

Thank you everyone, for all of your beautiful reviews! I feel the need to shoutout you all! Maybe I'll do an actual list at the end...

(-)

We don't really like storms.

I'm not sure if this has anything to do with the Games or not. There could be some left-over storm memories from the Quarter Quell, like the burning mist and the blood rain and the wave and the lightning. I know Katniss hates the sounds because they remind her of when District 13 was bombed. And that reminds me of blood and venom and internal conflict a lot of thongs I'd rather not think about.

Katniss wanted me to dance in the rain once with her. That was a long time ago, before we were married, but I still remember it. She decided that I was going to get hypothermia because I already had a cold and then it started thundering so we went inside and she made me soup and I made her cheese buns.

Either way, we're not big fans of storms. As soon as the rain comes down or the lightning starts, we just barricade ourselves in our house and play games or read or talk or sleep until it's over. Unless the power goes out.

Like it did today.

-/;(:|\|\\~

When I wake up and head downstairs, Katniss is leaning out the kitchen window with her right hand outstretched: game-bag slung over her shoulder, brown hair —a distinct shade somewhere between dark chocolate and cinnamon— braided carefully, eyes paling in the dawn light. She looks perfect. I want to tell her to stay there so I can paint her.

"It's raining," She says, swiveling to face me and shaking water off her hand.

"You're not going hunting, then?" She'll hunt if it drizzles, but not if it's dark and pouring.

"No. It's not like we need food, anyway." Katniss jumps from the sill and lands perfectly, dropping her bow and bag on the counter.

"So I have you all to myself." I grin, snatching her up in my arms and kissing her.

"Until I run away with a boy from the Seam," She says flatly. It's kind of weird to say since we don't really have a Seam anymore, just that most people are either blonde with blue eyes or dark-haired with grey. But it reminds me of Gale, and suddenly I'm extra glad that my ring's on her finger.

"Sure, sweetie." I say, kissing her forehead. Katniss smirks.

"I'm serious." But her eyes are twinkling now, so I know she's not.

"Okay," I tease. "What do you want for breakfast?"

Katniss pauses to consider the question and I can hear the rain start to pour harder. The smell of evening primrose wafts in through the open window, strengthened by the rain.

"Lemon poppyseed muffins," She decides.

"Coming right up," I promise, shutting the window —water damages the paint— and grabbing the flour. Just as I pull out a mixing bowl, the lights go out.

"Katniss?" I call, whirling around. The darkness seems like mist around me, concealing and deceptive. Maybe she went upstairs, the rational part of ms thinks. Another part of me is terrified, imagining scenarios where Gamemakers have cut the phone lines and power and snatched up Katniss. Maybe they're waiting in the dark for me, too.

"Katniss?" I call again, fingers fumbling for something to use as a weapon in case Gamemakers really are hiding in the shadows. In case they're ready to send a pack of mutts after me.

There's no sound except for the sound of my breathing, but even that's nearly drowned out by the storm. Then a crash from upstairs ruptures the screaming wind outside.

"Katniss?" My hands finally find a rolling pin in one of our drawers. It's a wonder I didn't accidentally grab a knife by the blade. "Katniss!" I charge in the direction of the stairs, bumping into the table and knocking Katniss's game bag onto the floor (which I then trip over). I grab the railing and launch up the stairs, stumbling but never slowing down.

"Peeta?"

"Katniss!" I cry in relief, even though I haven't ruled out the possibility of mutts yet. It could be a jabberjay.

"In here!" I run towards the sound of her voice, even though I should really be more careful. I survived two Games, I shouldn't run into danger with nothing but a rolling pin.

I crash into something at the door. I start to pull back until I hear my name and Katniss wraps her arms around me, burying her head in my chest.

"Are you okay?" I whisper, dropping the rolling pin and clutching her closer to me.

"Fine. The storm must have knocked the power out." I glimpse the flash of her grey eyes in the darkness.

"Okay." I take a few more minutes to just hold her, inhaling her scent. "Are there any candles up here?"

"I think there's some of those watermelon ones left over from when you tried to seduce me into having kids."

"Is that what I was doing?" I mumble, kissing her neck.

Katniss gently pushes me away and slips past me. "I'll get them."

"Wait!" I nearly scream. A flash of lightning illuminates my rolling pin on the floor. I grab it and heft it like a club. "I'm coming too."

"You're just being overprotective." She says, and I can just make out her body in the darkness. I wish I could see her face.

"You never know," I respond quietly, keeping a hand on the wall as she leads the way to the spare bedroom and takes the pinkish-red candles out of the night-table.

"Here," Katniss piles some candles in my hand and scrambles until she finds a lighter. "Where should our storm shelter be?" I have the feeling she's winking in the dark.

"I don't know. Here?"

"Let's go to our room."

"Why would you ask me if you don't like my opinion?"

"Sorry. I just don't like the guest bedroom." Katniss says, starting towards our room.

"Why not?" I ask, taking hold of her hand and cradling the rolling pin and candles in the other.

"I don't know. It smells weird. It makes me feel uncomfortable."

I'm not a psychiatrist, so I don't press. Katniss lights the candles one by one, sticking some on the night tables and one on my dresser.

"How long will the power be out, do you think?" I enquire, because the silence is killing me.

"First, the lightning has to stop. Then I guess the ex-miners or whoever will fix it." I take her hand again and rub my hand over her wedding ring. "What are you doing?"

"Just enjoying the fact that my ring is on your finger." I say, caressing her face with my spare hand.

"You're going to use this as another excuse to have kids, aren't you?"

I kiss her softly. "Yeah."


	21. The Joys of Fake Pregnancy

**A/N: Oh, you guys. You make me laugh so hard and smile 'till it hurts. And yeah, I do need to start editing better. Thongs instead of things gets me every time...**

Bt-dubs—Anyone buy Hunger Games on DVD yet? I wanted to, but I'm poor right now...

noellestarr: Yeah, the last chapter will probably be the one where she says yes. If it's not, it'll be second-to-last and there'll be an epilogue of them with kids. I'm not sure yet, since I'm determined to squeeze fifty chapters out of this. :)

There's a bit of language in this chapter. And a lot of awkwardness that almost makes me regret posting. Plus Flustered Peeta and Confused Peeta pretty much dominate this chapter. 

~-||||||||

"Katniss, what if you were pregnant?"

"What do you mean 'what if I was pregnant', Peeta?" She demands, clenching the District 3 roll in her hand like she's going to throw it at me.

"Would it really be so bad if you were pregnant?" I take a bite of my own roll. I ordered them from the Capitol, and when Katniss found out she got mad at me for not asking for her favourite soup.

"We've been over this. I don't want children."

"_Katniss_," I whine, stealing some of her exasperation for a moment. "Just pretend for a minute that you do. Would being pregnant really be that bad?"

"Yes," She says stubbornly, tilting her chin up. For some reason, it makes me smile. She's been making me smile for years. "I'd be fat and hungry and miserable all the time. And then I'd feel terrible and hardly even be able to stand up on my own."

"I think part of the reason you don't want kids is because you're scared of being pregnant."

Katniss huffs indignantly. "Why would I be scared of being pregnant?" Her eyes are angry, but there's something underneath her sharp gaze that looks petrified.

"I'm not sure," I comment, taking another roll. "Why would you be?"

"I know what you're trying to do, Peeta." She scowls, clenching her roll again.

"Yeah?"

"You're trying to coerce me into telling you why I'm scared of having kids and being pregnant, but it's not gonna work." Katniss finishes, chomping down her roll and staring out the window.

"So you are scared." I point out.

Katniss glowers at me. "I'm going hunting."

"I'll be making a phone call, then." I say, but the house is empty.

-

The Capitol has surprisingly fast delivery.

"What the hell is that, Peeta?"

I wince. "It's a fake baby stomach."

"What are you planning to do, get me to fake being pregnant for a day?" Katniss is staring at me in half-shock, half-anger.

"Yes?" I ran out of useable ideas a long time ago. The last few I had was just instances I took advantage of.

She glowers at me and straps it on over her shirt. "Alright. Let's go."

I stare at her in surprise. It wasn't supposed to be that easy. This is _Katniss_. "What?"

Katniss throws herself on the couch and starts groaning like she's in pain. "Peeta!"

"Yes, Katniss?"

"Get me some Cinnamon buns."

"Do I get a 'please'?"

"No. Go get them."

I hesitate, but check the cupboards. "We're out."

Katniss glares at me from over the back of the couch. "Peeta, you got me pregnant." No, I didn't. "Either hurry up and make me some or go buy some from that kid and his baker family."

"Deffon?"

"I don't care what his name is, just get me some!"

I wince again as she yells, promise to be right back, and run to the bakery as fast as I can go.

"Hi," I pant. "Can I get a dozen Cinnamon buns please?"

"You look like you're in a hurry," Deffon's dad beams. "Need them for a party or something?"

"No, Katniss wants some."

"Ah." He says, and there's a twinkle in his eye like he's remembering his first year of marriage. "Is that a dozen or a baker's dozen?"

"A baker's dozen, just to be safe." I take the bag and hurry back home. When I slam open the door, Katniss is sitting contentedly with her fake belly.

"Oh, you're back. You can just leave those on the counter, I'm not hungry anymore." She hums a little. Katniss doesn't hum.

"What?" I demand, jerking my head up.

"I'm not hungry; come sit." Katniss pats the vision beside her, putting down a bag of peppermints.

I sit next to her cautiously. Something about the way she's looking at me is making me wary. Katniss regards me like she's figuring out the best way to attack.

And then she does, lips locking on mine like she's starving. She tastes like peppermints and freedom. For sone reason, this reminds me of the banquet before the Quarter Quell; all the soups that tasted like impossible things and all the food she kept passing back to me.

Katniss pulls back and then smiles like she's won some sort of prize. She settles against my chest, letting out a contended hum. This isn't like her at all. Katniss may have had to fake being in love with me once, but I don't remember her being this great at acting. Although she had even me believing it, maybe I was just too blinded by love to see it.

"Peeta, do we have any gum?"

"No..." I tense, awaiting orders.

"Well, then why are you sitting here? Go get me some gum!"

"What kind do you want?" I ask, caressing her face. She bats my hand away.

"The fruity kind. Go!"

When I get back, she's decided she wants Cinnamon buns after all and is happily chowing down. I sigh, putting the gum on the counter next to her.

"This is really good. How come your's don't taste like this?"

I can feel my nose twitch. I thought she loved my baking. Katniss tells me everyday that my Cheese Buns are the best things she's ever tasted.

"They use more brown sugar and less butter."

"Can you make it like this tomorrow?"

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Sure."

The door slams and Haymitch waltzes into our kitchen. He doesn't look very drunk. He takes one look at Katniss and bursts out laughing.

"I see he finally got you knocked up, eh sweetheart?"


	22. Katniss Gets Hypthermia

**A/N: You know how I love pugs and wanted one for my birthday but didn't get one? Well, I GOT A PUG!**

**Speaking of that chapter, you know how I said Buttercup would make regular appearances and then only showed up in that chapter? Now I'm going to start making an effort to have him in it.**

**And I'm glad you all loved the Haymitch part. I was pretty proud. Plus, he needs to be in this more.**

**jesusfreak94: You genius. Haha, I'm not sure if I'm using the same ending as I was originally, but this is a great idea.**

**kaibasgirlx/Téa: I definitely was thinking of bringing Johanna in at some point! Way to read my mind! I wasn't exactly sure how it would help Peeta's cause, though, so thank you for the idea. Haha, I love their relationship too and yeah, she doesn't seem like a kid-lover either.**

[[[[[|]]]]]]

"Peeta! Peeta, wake up."

I open one eye, groggily trying to focous on Katniss's face.

"What?" I demand, sitting up and opening one eye. "Did you have a nightmare or something? Did I...did I do something?"

"No. But get dressed. Dressed warmly. I have a surprise for you."

I frown at her cryptic message. "Okay..."

"Hurry!" And then, in a flurry of brown hair and grey, she's gone.

I get dressed and brush my teeth (because it doesn't look like I'll get a chance later, and Katniss might want to eat out) and meet her in the kitchen. She's got the red scarf on, the one I bought for her last week, and her smile is so bright it could light up the world. She only braided the top half of her hair, so part of it dangles loose and wavy from yesterday's braid.

"Okay, what's your big surprise?" I question, tugging my own scarf on. Green and yellow stripes. Katniss likes it because of the green, and she has a certain fondness for yellow now.

Katniss grins and throws open the door. Outside, the world is bathed in white and the sky is so pale it doesn't look real. The lights in the houses are dark, so the buildings surrounding us look like they were borrowed from a dream. It looks empty, perfect, pure. No one's touched the snow yet. It's five in the morning. No one's up.

"It's beautiful," I breathe. Normally I'd add that it's also nothing compared to her, but I feel like I shouldn't break the silence that is as untouched as the snow.

Katniss nods, the low light somehow managing to illuminate her silver eyes. Her cheeks are flushed against the bitter air, and it makes me want to press a kiss to her cheekbone. She looks impossibly beautiful, as unreal as she did when we were dressed as coal. But today she's a creature made from ice and snowflakes.

She takes my hand. "Come on," Katniss says, and that's all that needs to be said.

We run through the snow, screaming like every call is our last breath. We don't care that we might wake someone up, that they might be angry. There's a whole world that holds only us, and it's grey and white and cold and magical. Katniss kisses me, and we fall into the snow and I don't even think about the last time that happened and how then she didn't love me. All I think about is pink lips and flushed cheeks and bitter cold and how Katniss tastes like blackberries and freedom. We roll in the snow until every particle near our house is upturned. Then we laugh at the sky until our stomachs hurt.

"That was worth waking up at five in the morning," I sigh. We're lying on our backs side by side and the sky is an unreachable, impossible thing dangling above us. But today it doesn't matter that we can't touch it. It just matters that it's there.

"So you want to do that again tomorrow?" She asks, fingers finding mine and grinning wildly. I love her like this best, wild and free and safe and happy.

I laugh, even though I thought I'd run out of breath. "It won't be like this tomorrow."

She props herself up to look at me. Her grey eyes look like a part of the sky. "I guess."

"Tomorrow let's just stay in bed." I mumble, rolling into her side. "We can drink hot chocolate and eat cheese buns and watch the kids play in the snow." It sounds like heaven to me, but so does this. Running in the snow with the woman I love and then staring at the sky and thinking of things that are impossible but true.

"That sounds like a waste." She says, and I can feel each breath she takes. I can imagine them being released into air like a hazy promise.

"It'll be even colder tomorrow." I murmur, snuggling deeper into her side. She smells like fresh air, just like she always does; but today it's accented by something sharper, colder. Somehow the cold makes everything crisper, gives it an unimaginable clarity.

"So? Maybe they'll be more snow for us to trample." Katniss teases, but her words fade into a cough.

I sit up abruptly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just inhaled some cold air."

"It's all cold air," I tease, twirling a lock of her loose hair around my finger.

She narrows her eyes at me. "Distinctly-more-cold-than-the-rest-of-the-air air." Then she starts coughing again, which is cut out by a sneeze.

I gape at her. "You're sick."

"I'm not." Katniss lets go of my hand and flicks snow at me reproachfully. Then she shivers a little, adjusts her gloves, and sniffs like she needs to blow her nose.

"You are! You have a cold or something!" I find myself beaming. I shouldn't be, but I never get the chance to look after her like this.

Katniss scowls and smacks my arm. "I'm not sick. I don't get sick. I've survived four winters as the breadwinner for my family. I'm fine. Lay back down."

I study her carefully, noticing how her voice is bordering on nasally. She doesn't get sick very often, but she's definitely sick now. "No. You're sick. You just don't want to admit it because you're used to having to struggle to survive and convincing yourself that you're fine. I don't know why that survival instinct is kicking in now, but you're not fine. You're sick. You'll feel a lot better if you rest for a bit and let me make you soup."

Katniss sniffles. "You're terrible at making soup."

I take her hand and pull her to her feet. "You just never give me a chance to make soup." I insist, pulling her against me. Katniss winds her arms around my waist, resting her head in the space just below my shoulder. Eventually, she starts to stumble, and I have to pick her up and carry her.

She protests all the way up to our room, and refuses to sit still as I tuck the covers around her.

"Katniss," I sigh, sitting on the bed next to her. "Why won't you just admit you're sick?"

She crosses her arms and blows a strand of loose hair from her face. "Because. Then you'll be right, and then you'll try and take care of me. And then I'll feel bad and ask how I can make us even, and you'll insist on having kids and I'll have to be mad at you." Katniss uncrosses her arms and flops back on our bed. "It's exhausting."

I let my mouth twist into a frown. "Just let me take care of you." I sigh when she scowls. "Katniss, we're married. We don't have to be even. Remember all those times you took care of me when I had a fit? You still do. Katniss, you're the reason I fight. You're the reason I come back every time." I take her hand, stroking her wedding ring with my finger. "Then I can be allowed to take care of you."

She sniffles again. "Fine. Go make soup." Katniss insists, shooing me away with a hand.

I grin and kiss her hand quickly. "Love you,"

As I run downstairs with soup recipes and convincing plots running through my head, I hear her whisper "I love you, too."

"Here's your soup," I say. "Chicken noodle."

"What am I, five years old?" Katniss asks, but I know she'd never had it before. All her soups were homemade and you can only order Chicken Noodle Soup from the Capitol.

"We just had a lot of it. I don't know who ordered it."

"Probably Haymitch." Katniss says, reaching for the soup with shaky hands. I spoon it out for her, remembering her doing the same for me in a cave years ago.

"You know, if we had kids we could force-feed them this soup." I offer, dipping the spoon in her mouth. Katniss watches me carefully with rainwater eyes.

"You're right, I don't like it. It's too salty." She says, frowning. "That's actually a legitimate reason to have children."

I laugh, because honestly it's a terrible idea, and it was only a joke. "And then we could make them to mow the lawn and feed us breakfast in bed."

Katniss pushes the soup away and sighs contentedly. "That sounds nice. Remind me to never let them feed me this soup."

"There's Cream of Mushroom downstairs if you want it."

"I do, please get it. And hot chocolate. And another blanket."

"Maybe you have hypothermia," I say, getting up.

"It's not cold enough," Katniss responds, gazing out the window and pulling the comforter closer around her. She looks plenty cold to me.

I quickly make us both hot chocolates and dump out the Chicken Noodle soup. I'm sure someone in town will want it (someone who's connections to the Capitol aren't as good and can only buy soup in stores). I manage to scrounge up a serving tray I bought so I could give Katniss breakfast-in-bed once, and it's come in handy on her birthday and Valentine's day more than once.

I snatch up a quilt from the closet on my way up, and present it all to Katniss with a smile. She coughs and pulls up the blankets next to her so I can get in. Maybe she needs body heat too.

Katniss finishes off the soup and hot chocolate before either one can get cold, and finishes off half the Kleenex box pretty quickly. Then she snuggles into my side and says "You were right."

"About what?"

"About how tomorrow we'll spend all day in bed eating cheese buns."

I smirk: an expression my face isn't used to, but it's left over from the cynicism the tracker jacker venom provided. "You'll be in bed all day. I'll be tending to your every need." I say, kissing her softly.

Katniss pushes me off. "Don't kiss me, I'm sick." But her eyes are tinged with longing.

I kiss her again. "I don't care."

We stay there for another two hours –in which Katniss falls asleep twice- before Katniss decides she wants more soup.

"Are you sure you don't mind taking care of me for a few days?" She sniffs. Her eyes are red and her hair is messy, and she looks so tiny and pathetic that I can't help taking care of her.

"Not at all." I beam. "I love you, remember? And also...I think that's part of why I want kids so much. I just feel the need to take care of people."

Katniss smiles. "That sounds like you. Now, go get me soup."


	23. 21

**A/N: So...how was everyone's first day of school? Mine was okay, thanks for asking.**

**Aussi (that's French for also if you don't know), I know that I've kind of wrote this like they're eighteenish but they're married so...they're twenty one now. There's a time gap between chapters, and it starts once they've grown back together so they were about nineteen at the beginning and now they're twenty one. Embrace the confusion.**

**flutterbee: I'm actually planning to do a chapter where Peeta tries to 'accidentally' get her pregnant (not quite like your idea) but I don't know how that will play out because I don't write graphic scenes.**

{}

I freeze as I turn the corner into the family room. Katniss is perched in the comfiest chair —the one by the fire with its own endtable— reading a book. That could be normal, except it's one o' clock at night and it's a book I've never seen before.

"Hey, Peeta." She says, flipping the page. I curse silently, not as silent as I thought. But I'm in the middle of surprising her for her birthday tomorrow, and she needs to go to sleep so I can finish it.

"Good morning, Katniss." I say, forcing my voice to go even. She gives me a funny look. I guess she didn't realize that the clock had ever struck midnight.

"Yeah, anyway. You know how District Twelve used to be part of North America?"

"Yes?" I say hesitantly. Her eyes are sparkling and her head is quirked to the side curiously. She's smiling, but there's something off about it.

"Well, North America used to be three countries, like really big Districts. And the two biggest ones, Canada and the United States of America, had different legal drinking ages."

I blink. "What?" I honestly thought this was going in different directions.

"In Canada, the legal drinking age was nineteen and in the United States it was twenty-one. Don't you think that's funny?" Her smile's even bigger now, a little bit crazy.

I can feel a crease forming between my eyebrows. "Yeah. People in the States could just go to Canada to drink."

"Exactly."

I frown. "Have you been drinking coffee? You didn't...you didn't go to Haymitch's for a drink did you?"

Katniss scowls. "No. Why?"

"You're just acting strange."

"Strange how?"

"I don't know, staying up until one o'clock reading up on your history and then spouting random facts about legal drinking ages?"

"Thanks, Peeta. Anyway, you know how it's my birthday tomorrow?"

"Today," I correct before she can continue.

"Today," Katniss corrects carefully. "Well, I finally figured out what I wanted." She smiles winningly. "I'm going to get drunk."

I swear my jaw just fell off my face. One of the only things I swore to never let Katniss do. "What?"

Katniss frowns. "It's supposed to be symbolic. Since it's my twenty-first birthday and all."

I gape at her a little more. I feel like she just cut off one of my hands.

"Stop looking at me like that, Peeta."

"I'm sorry." I say, because anything else I say could rouse her temper, and I don't have my 'you're-never-allowed-to-drink-ever' speech ready yet.

"What are you doing up, anyway?" She asks, turning the page in her book. I feel like throwing into the fireplace and pretending she never learned about drinking ages.

"I was getting your birthday present ready, but I guess that doesn't matter anymore." I probably look like a pathetic mixture of sad and angry right now.

"Oh. Well, just order some nice wine from the Capitol and we'll be good. Something with grapefruit would be nice." Katniss closes her book, dumps it on the end table, and starts past me towards the stairs.

I catch her wrist. "Katniss. I don't want you to do this."

"We're not in danger anymore, Peeta. I won't die if I get drunk." She arches an eyebrow like, 'I thought I wad the paranoid one'. "Besides," Katniss adds, giving me a seductive smile. "You can get me to do anything you want if I'm drunk."

While that would be an easy way to get kids, I wouldn't take advantage of Katniss that way. "You can get addicted," I try. "You could walk around every day completely drunk like Haymitch used to, or get alcohol poisoning."

Katniss slips her arm from my grip, but now she's regarding me curiously. "Drinking can kill you?"

"Yes. It can tear your life apart."

Katniss shakes her head, like she's been listening to a crazy person and just realized the truth. "Getting drunk one more time won't kill me." She slips past me, trotting up the stairs. "Get something nice!" I hear, before she locks herself in our bedroom.

I grab the cheese buns and orchids and get to work.

"Peeta!"

I smile drowsily and get up. Katniss is waiting downstairs, holding the arrow gently. She's surrounded by the path of purple orchids and carnations I left. She glances over at me, grey eyes sparkling. "Where did you get this?"

I grin sheepishly. "I thought that maybe your dad might have lost one of his arrows at one point, so I spent a whole day in the woods looking for it."

She stares at the arrow in her hands in awe. "How did you know it was his?"

"Well, he wasn't as great a shot as you are, but my dad would show me the squirrels your dad sold him. The arrows were usually through the skull and they all had this little symbol at the base."

Katniss grins, caressing the side of the arrow. "Yeah. I watched him make arrows once, and I asked him what the symbol was. Then he showed me how it was two plants, katniss root and...evening primrose." She swallows carefully, glancing up. "Peeta...thank you. This...this means the world to me." Katniss throws her arms around me. "Thank you."

I smile. "You're welcome." Maybe she won't want to get drunk anymore, now that she's seen her present. "Come on, I have more planned for today."

She raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

In response, I pull her outside into the snow. Buttercup follows us, making irritated noises about the cold. But he follows Katniss around now, protects her. She's become his replacement Prim.

I take her hand and Buttercup hurries after us, snowballs clinging to the fur on his belly. We take the usual trek to the candy shop, where I've scheduled for the head candy-maker to show us how to make peppermints. Katniss laughs the whole time, flicking mix at me or tasting it when no one is looking. And I'm so, so happy that she's in this mood today. But when she is, it seems like the Games and the hard part of her life never happened. Like we're just two people who have been married for almost six months.

By the time we get home with our peppermints, it's almost dark. Buttercup is mewling and shivering, and Katniss has this unreasonable concern that someone's going to steal the arrow I spent so long looking for.

"I haven't forgotten, you know." She says. "Peeta, this was the best birthday I've ever had, but I still want to get drunk."

I knit my eyebrows together, finding a brush for Buttercup. "You can get through life without getting drunk, Katniss. I've never been drunk."

She scowls and crosses her arms. "It's my birthday."

"I'm not helping you."

"Fine, I'll go to Haymitch."

I start after her, but her expression switches to stubborn. She's doing this, and it will take a lot of convincing to change her mind. Before I can get her to stay, she slams the door and starts to Haymitch.

I brush Buttercup, and I can imagine Haymitch making some joke about how he doesn't have to get her a birthday present now. I try not to imagine Katniss downing bottle after bottle, yelling and making terrible jokes and trying not to throw up on herself. It's not a good image to have about your wife.

I get the last of the snowballs out of Buttercup's fur and he jumps down with a catty grunt. I gather up the orchids and irises and put them in a vase in case she's conscious tomorrow. Finally, Katniss comes home, spilling beer all over the floor. It reminds me of the last time she was drunk. Before the Quarter Quell.

"Peeeeeeeta." She crows. "Um...can you help me upstairs pleeeease?"

I sigh, pouring out the bottle and leaving it on the counter and then helping her up to our room. I end up holding her hair while she throws up.

Katniss groans, stumbling back to the bed. "I'm neveeeer doing that. Again." She rolls into my side. "I'm going to have susssshhhh a hangover tomorrow."

"Such?" I ask.

"Whatever." Katniss presses a hand to her temple. "Remind me to neeeever do that again."

I sigh. "Then Katniss, why did you?"

The coffee I gave her must be helping, because her slur starts to dissolve. When I look up her eyes are clear. "I think...for closure. The last time I was drunk was before the Quell. And now, now it's legal...I think. Do we have drinking laws? Anyway. Now, I just...I never got a chance to point out that I'm too old to be a tribute, and I can handle myself. But mostly just...to show them that they don't me anymore. They _never _owned me. I...I had to be composed and following their little rules or one of you would die. And I guess...I can be drunk now. They don't control me. I can be drunk and barfing and disgusting because there's no Mockingjay and no cameras. They don't own me. I do what I want." She nods firmly, then her eyes glaze over.

I kiss her forehead. "If we had kids, you wouldn't be allowed to be drunk."

Katniss laughs. "Sounds good to me."


	24. Moving On

Moving On

**A/N: So this was supposed to just be about Christmas, but something grabbed it, said "Nope, we're doing this.", and flung it in a completely different direction. Kind of funny how that happens when you write.**

**madibrook7: Aw, thank you! That means a lot! And I get the whole not-reviewing thing. I have a few fanfics that I haven't reviewed yet because I started them way before I got an account. And no, I can't update every day. Honestly, I just don't have the time and it's hard enough to update once a week (I've hardly touched my real book for weeks!). If I did update every day, the chapters would get really short and sloppy and no one would want to read that. But thanks for loving this so much! :)**

**Katniss Everdeen District 12: There's this myth that it helps with hangovers but idk, I'm not old enough to be legally drunk. Plus I was in a hurry (I procrastinate on this story so much that I write half of it on Monday).**

**flutterbee: Ohmygoodness, really? What did you write? :D**

**King Kubar: Yeah, you're right. I guess that was because I feel like Peeta was pining after her for eleven years, and Katniss was like "Oh. Well, I might love Gale. Just...hold that feeling until I make up my mind." Plus I feel like Katniss isn't as good about affection since she's been broken so many times. But yeah, that chapter is pretty one-sided. And I LOVE your idea! I love playing with jealousy, and when my favourite book couples get jealous, I just...it's great. I love it. XD**

I love Christmas. I don't know a single person who doesn't. Except maybe Haymitch, but he hardly counts.

Even before the Districts were free, Christmas was kind of magical. Everyone would light candles and leave them on their porches. People would sew dolls or stars out of old scraps and decorate their house with them. You'd make your family gifts, and the bakery always smelled like nutmeg. People would be buying pastries and cakes all day, and it was the one time of the year that my mother was actually happy. Delly would tie her hair in pigtails and make everyone cookies and put glitter on her cheeks. Every Christmas I would work up the nerve to give Katniss something, and every year I chickened out.

"What do you want for Christmas?" Katniss asks absently, scribbling a name in the book and then passing it over so I can draw. I stare at the page. Caesar Flickerman. He died two weeks ago and they're still doing tributes to him on TV.

"You know what I want," I say, carefully drawing Ceaser's eyes onto the page and then staring at it blankly.

"You're not getting kids for Christmas. Anything else?"

I stare at Ceaser's eyes blankly. He was an interviewer for most of the Games. Suddenly, they end and three years later he dies? That can't just happen, can it?

Maybe they poisoned him. Maybe he was a ticking time bomb and the timer finally went off.

"Peeta?"

"A new muffin tray would be nice," I mumble, picking up my pencil. I can't bring myself to draw, though. It doesn't seem fair that he's missing Christmas.

It doesn't seem fair that anyone has to die, right? Isn't that what this whole book is about?

"Peeta," Katniss takes my empty hand. "It'll be okay. We're okay. We're safe."

I sigh, dropping the pencil again and rubbing my eyes. "Okay. Sorry. What do you want for Christmas?"

Katniss sighs. "I don't really know...I think I just want to do something for all these people." She points at the book. "Like, light a bunch of candles in the town square or the woods or something. Haymitch could help us."

I nod. "That sounds nice. And we could have special candles for everyone."

Katniss smiles faintly, staring at Ceaser's eyes on the page. "Yeah,"

Katniss and I bundle up and head out into town. There's this little candle shop run by a girl named Emasili who's a year younger than us. She has this strange fascination with light, and her dad was a blacksmith. When she was six years old, he taught her how to make a candle. After the war, she built this building —half candle shop and half her home— and started making candles. She has candles that smell like cinnamon or baked goods or rain or icing, and some that have patterns drawn on them in gold. Others have ornate metal holders or little mechanisms that light the candle for you.

Katniss glances around her at all the candles. "I feel...I feel like we should make candles for them ourselves, you know? It would make it more special."

I smile. "Yeah, but it would take forever and we don't know how to make candles."

Katniss frowns. "Okay. But next year we should."

Emasili comes out from the back of her shop, carrying a squat yellow candle with an off-centre wick. "Oh, hi!" She grins when she sees us. Her golden hair looks pale yellow in the dim lighting, but her eyes still sparkle. "Anything I can do for you?"

"We're just working on a project," I say. It makes her smile even bigger because Katniss and I don't really get involved with anything.

"Cool! Let me know if anything catches your eye, 'kay?" She leaves the candle on the desk by the cash register and disappears again. There's probably a candle-making station back there.

I start towards the wall that's all shelf, stacked so overflowing with candles that it looks like Emasili has never sold one in her life. She's probably just making more than usual because it's holiday season.

Emasili pops back in the shop, this time carrying a faint purple candle that is designed to appear twisted and looks like it's melting. "These shelves are the scented candles." She says, gesturing with one hand at the shelves I'm looking at. Even though it takes up a whole wall, there's almost a split in the middle. "This half is Christmas-y smells," —Emasili waves her hand at the left half of the wall— "And these are unseasonal smells." She beams brightly.

"Thanks," I say. Emasili is nice to be around. She's always bright and happy and shining.

Emasili wanders over to Katniss and leaves the purple candle on a shelf. I turn back to the candles and look for something that stands out. There's one shelf that's all blue candles, and a shelf where they all smell like pumpkin —I'm pretty sure those belong on the holiday shelf.

Emasili pops in and out, carrying different candles and putting them in different places around the shop. I stop looking up when she does and start picking up and putting back every candle, one by one. Finally, I get to a green candle that smells like the ocean. Perfect.

"Find anything?" Katniss asks, popping up by my shoulder. She's got a yellow and blue candle in her right hand: the two different coloured waxes are carefully blended in an almost swirly pattern, like batter before you stir food dye in all the way. In her left hand she has a light brown candle with a gold flower carved into it. Prim and Rue, probably.

"Finnick," I say, waving the tall green candle.

"Prim and Rue." Katniss says, tracing a swirl on the Prim candle. She looks up, grey eyes stormy. "I feel like Haymitch should be here. For Maysilee, and all those tributes that died before our games."

I nod in agreement. "I called him before we came here. He'll be here at noon, and then we can go out for lunch after."

"Do you guys want something to carry those in?" Emasili asks, delicately placing a silvery candle on the shelf next to the table covered in candle holders that I want to look at later.

"Yes, please." I smile. Emasili hurries into the back room and then comes back with two silver carrying things made out of interlocking metal. I carefully put our findings in them.

The little bell over the shop door makes a sound like wind-chimes and Haymitch walks in, a little more drunk than usual and wearing a Santa hat. Maybe Effie's visit happened earlier than usual. She's very seasonal.

"Why are we candle-shopping, exactly? Planning a power outage, sweetheart?"

"More like a memorial." Katniss said, starting towards the candle-holders.

"Oh! That's sweet!" Emasili commented as she hurried in with an armload of pink candles. She dumps some in the part of the shop Katniss looked at and leaves the other three in the scented area before disappearing again.

"How thoughtful." Haymitch comments dryly. "And I'm here..." He waves his hands with a faint drunken air. "Why?"

"I thought you could pick out Maysilee's." I say. "And some for all the other tributes." The candle-holders are really cool. Some are old-fashioned candelabras and some are these elaborate little trees. A couple are pots with decorate holes to let the light out. Emasili must have learned how to make them from her dad, but most of them have this bright flair that's all Emasili.

"Oh." Haymitch automatically sobers. A special candle for everyone, then."

"Yeah," Katniss says, picking up one of this self-lighting candles and tucking it into her basket. Haymitch nods and gets to work. Emasili pops back in with a basket for Haymitch.

We spend an hour finding candles and then break for lunch. I direct Haymitch and Katniss to a little cafe Delly works at. At first she didn't want to come back to 12, but then someone from 13 wanted to move here and Delly offered to show him around. I think it's a little more than Delly courtesy, though.

"Hello, what would you guys like?" Delly asks, manic grin on her face. She has glitter on her cheeks like always, but her hair is fishtail braided. I give her a quick hug. She got back two days ago, but I haven't had a chance to see her yet.

"Cheese bun." Katniss says, smiling brightly. I remember how she only smiled that big for her family and Gale five years ago. I think she's still trying to make it up to Delly for bringing me back from the Tracker Jacket poisoning. "I bet yours are better than Peeta's." She winks at Delly. We all know that's Katniss's teasing voice.

I order French toast and hot chocolate and Haymitch orders scrambled eggs. Delly leaves and comes back with our food and asks if we want anything else. We say no, and then Haymitch pulls out his bag full of candles.

"Let's see the spoils," He says gruffly.

I carefully drop my bag on the table and Katniss does the same, plucking out candles one at a time. "Rue," She says. "Prim," Katniss pulls out two more candles, one the same blue as Cinna's eyes and one that's a red that sometimes shows up in the sunset. "Cinna," She points at the blue candle, which I now realize is decorated with golden glitter that twirls around the candle like a trail of fireflies. The glitter looks exactly like the kind Cinna had on his eyelids. Then she picks up the red one. "Clove."

I stare at her as she pulls our more candles. Katniss glances up. "What?"

"You did one for Clove?"

She shrugs uncomfortably. "I felt like we should do some for the tributes in our Games."

"She tried to kill you," I point out, remembering how Cato tried to kill me.

"I know." Katniss's gaze hardens and she stares at the red candle. It smells like cloves, the spice Clove was probably named after. I'm starting to think that it's a little strange how perfect some of these candles are. It's a little scary. "I just feel like if there were no Games, none of them would have ended up so horrible."

It makes sense. It makes complete sense. The careers were raised to be vicious.

"Okay," Haymitch says. "Who else do you have?"

"This is Boggs," Katniss smiles faintly, showing us the grey candle I saw earlier. She pushes the little lever that lights it and a dozen green, blue, and red lights turn on. "Thresh," Katniss takes out a bulky black candle. There's a few gold stars drawn on it, and Emasili wrote 'Hope' in italics on the side. "And this is my dad." Katniss clears her throat slightly, extracting a dark green candle with deer drawn on the side in Emasili's gold pen.

"My turn," Haymitch says. "Maysilee." He takes out a candle that's sunny yellow, like a canary, with a dragonfly etched on the side. He continues pulling out and putting away candles until we've seen all forty-something of District 12 tributes that didn't make it, and a handful that represent his family. Haymitch stares at all the candles in his bag when he's finished. He looks like he's going to cry.

I open my bag. "Finnick," I say, putting down the green candle that smells like the ocean. I think Katniss wanted to do Finnick, since she was the closest to him, but I found this one first. "Wiress," I delicately pull out the twisted purple candle Emasili was carrying. I feel like it might fall apart in my hands. "Ceaser," His was hard. I ended up choosing one that has a dash of every colour and three wicks, because I couldn't choose what year to symbolize. His hair has been almost every colour anyway.

By the time I'm finished, I feel like crying. My family and deceased friends all lay in front of me like ghosts. Katniss and Haymitch also look like they're going to burst into tears.

We plan the memorial for the next night, and Effie —who is in town after all— promises to come. I make one last trip to the candle shop to grab the tributes from our Games that Katniss missed.

By the time we set up for the memorial, we have a hundred and sixty candles between the three of us.

"These are going to take forever to light," Katniss frowns, glancing at the pathetic lighter in her hands and then back at us.

"Yup," I say, and get to work.

Most of the candles blow out a few times, but in the end the square looks like a beacon of light against the darkness. A few people come and go. Haymitch, Katniss, and I stay all night. Effie brings us coffees.

It feels like closure.

None of us have nightmares for a week.


	25. Christmas

**A/N: Look who ended up doing a Christmas chapter after all...**

**Wrote this off my new laptop!**

**Kilalahinanaruto555: I know, I love that chapter too! There were a few things I wanted to get in there that I didn't, but I think it's my fave.**

**jesusfreak94: I am a Haymitch/Effie fan! I have been since he hugged her in the first book ;). Not sure if I'd use that, though. So I just implied it ;). But your victor idea, definitely! I love it and the second I read it, my mind ran right back to kaibasgirlx's suggestion and I decided to combine the two :D.**

**I don't know if any of you saw it, but there was one guest who decided to tell me they were 'officially done with this story' because it wasn't exactly how they expected. I'm actually so glad none of you made a big deal out of it. I kind of did. To myself. Then I realized I was just being sensitive.**

**So, I'd like to thank you guys for being so amazing and supportive and giving me constructive criticism. Thanks for never giving up on me V3 (this is supposed to be a heart but FF doesn't like lesser than signs). **

"I think we should just leave them out here," Katniss says.

I pick up another candle. It's Glimmer, coated completely in gold dust. "They could get wrecked. And we wanted to do this again next year, right?"

Katniss sighs, picking up another bag. "We could just leave them here. Symbolically."

"Like a permanent memorial?"

"Yeah."

I frown. "You're just being lazy." I tease, adding the Clove and Cato candles to my bag. "Get busy." I toss the Cinna candle at her. She scowls, but keeps grabbing candles anyway. Haymitch is across the square, delicately adding the candles of Disrtict 12 tributes to his bag.

An hour later we're finished, all a hundred sixty-something candles bagged up and stuck on wagons. We drag them home silently, Effie fluttering around us, carrying a schedule like she has the holidays planned for us. Annie and her son are coming down on boxing day, but aside from that we have no plans.

"Okay, people! Dinner is at Haymitch's house at six o' clock. And we all know the importance of punctuality, so don't be late!" Effie twitters, adjusting her hairpiece. It's a little bird that looks like a sparrow but is colored like a Mockingjay. I'm not really sure what that's supposed to mean. Are people still sporting Katniss's Mockingjay?

"Why at my house?" Haymitch demands. Katniss wrinkles her nose. Our house is a lot cleaner.

"Because that's where I'm staying and I'm not about to let anyone else make dinner!" Effie pulls out a little compact mirror and adjusts her blush. She brought a suitcase full of makeup and hair accessories.

"You can cook?" Katniss asks. Her jaw is hanging a little.

Effie gapes at us. "I hardly ever cook. It takes so long, my schedule just wouldn't have time for it. I brought food from the Capitol that bakes itself."

I glance at Katniss. "That sounds a lot more convenient than gathering and cooking your own food."

"Of course it does." Effie says. "In the Capitol, we're much more efficient."

The rest of us stifle smiles. I'm not really sure why it sounds so funny. Maybe because for years people in the Capitol have let fashion and cruel entertainment rule them. Not exactly efficient.

"Remember, dinner. Six o' clock. You have three hours to make yourselves presentable." Effie smiles warmly and kisses our cheeks before she rushes off to Haymitch's in her stilettos.

"Don't I get a kiss too?" Haymitch grumbles, then notices our expressions. "You heard her. Get moving. You're not allowed in my house looking that ugly." He smirks so we know he's joking.

I elbow Katniss. "We should her going. Effie won't invite you to one of her classy dinners again if you show up looking like that." I wink and Katniss's eyes glitter.

"Same goes for you, Peeta."

-Q

Effie throws open the door when we knock and clasps her hands together. "You two look lovely!" She ushers us to Haynitch's table and directs us to our seats before disappearing into the kitchen.

I admire how clean Haymitch's house looks. He's in a suit, like he's trying to sway Sponsors in our direction once again. I smirk. "Effie's good for you. Look how clean this place is."

Katniss snorts. "I didn't know Effie cleaned."

"Oh, I don't!" The person in question re-enters with a plate of discolored delicacies and some soups that smell familiar. "Haymitch cleaned, mostly. It's his house after all." She smiles winningly, placing the food on the table.

We feel like a family. Safe and happy and secure. It doesn't matter that Katniss's last blood family member is Districts away and mine and Haymitch's are all dead and no one knows what happened to Effie's. There's just this unspoken feeling.

"I hope you all have presents for everyone already," Effie says, handing us a Tupperware container if soup that tastes like sunlight. "I got mine two weeks ago."

Haymitch grunts, glumly scrubbing dishes. "We're a little old for gifts, Effie."

Effie shoots him a shocked, Capitol-trademarked 'you do everything so horribly wrong here' look. "Nonesense. I expect to see you all here again tomorrow at seven."

Katniss smirks as Effie closes the door. "I'm going to miss her."

I nod. "I'd ask her to live here permanently but I don't think she could handle it."

Katniss mimics Effie's still present Capitol accent. "You eat that? And you have to work in the mines to make money? You poor dears!"

I pull Katniss to my side. "It's nice, having Effie here. We're a family."

Katniss smiles. "Yeah. Is that why you want kids, so it can feel like that all the time?"

"Part of it." I kiss the top of her head and push the front door open. We didn't have time to find a place to put all the candles, so they've taken over our living room.

"I feel like we shouldn't put them in the attic." Katniss says, picking up a bag while still tucked under my arm.

"Yeah," I agreed. "The spare room, maybe?"

"Okay. First one to bring three bags there wins." Katniss is off like a shot and has five bags in the spare room before I've picked up one.

"That was a great idea." I say, sitting next to her on the bed in the spare room.

"What?" She glances at me, sunlight highlighting her eyes and face and hair.

"Having the memorial. Moving on."

Katniss nods, but her eyes are distant. "It was sad. Letting all those people go."

"That's what kids are, though. Rebirth."

Katniss grins. "Okay. I'm not ready yet, though."

My heart stops for a second. "You mean...maybe you would want kids?"

"Later." She says, and kisses me slowly before disappearing to have a shower.

It turns out that Effie is actually a Christmas fanatic. Haymitch's house is completely covered in banners and she even got a tree. My baking and Katniss's stew suddenly look a little pitiful.

But Christmas at Haymitch's ends up being sort of perfect.

Effie's dressed in completely red and green, and coerced Haymitch back into a Santa hat. I stick a pair of reindeer antlers on Katniss's head.

Surprisingly, even Haymitch brought gifts. He got me a set of paints from District 4 that's made entirely out of seashells and gives an odd texture to paintings. Katniss got a bunch of little chips that play music. He handed Effie a little box that had some sort of rare jewelry that she wouldn't let go of all night. Surprisingly, Haymtich managed to give perfect gifts.

Katniss got a silver dress from Effie that was apparently made by a 'new designer prodigy'. The style was so much like Cinna's Katniss teared up. I think the designer might have been Cinna's apprentice or something. I gave her a candle-holder I bought from Emasili's shop, one of the little trees. Only this one's gnarled branches are covered in tiny nooses. I couldn't help getting it, because the clip of her singing _The Hanging Tree_ was the start of me coming back to her. Katniss hugged us all so tight we couldn't breathe for a few seconds.

Effie gave me this recipe book from the Capitol that was 'top secret recipes'. I recognized a few of the names from banquets we'd had in the Capitol. And sure enough, Katniss got me a muffin tray. Except it looks really familiar. It takes me a while to realize it's the gold one from my family's bakery, with the same dent from where I dropped it when I was six. The side is charred now, but it still functions. It's officially the only thing I have left from my family.

Our first Christmas after the Games ends up being the one where I realize that real family really is the most valuable gift in the world.


	26. If You're A Tree, I'm A Tree

**A/N: Here's the long-awaited arrival of Johanna! Street cred goes to Tèa for the Johanna-visit idea & jesusfreak94 for the pregnant-Victor idea.**

I probably haven't told you guys this, but I actually had so much fun writing about the candles! Haha, I'm a nerd. I love candles. You guys know the Frosted Cupcake candle at Bath & Body Works? Ohmygoodness, it smells so freaking good! So, question of the day —what's your favourite B&BW candle?

Fun fact about this chapter— it started raining when I started writing this. Does this story magically influence the weather? Probably not, because a couple chapters ago it was supposed to snow ;)

King Kubar: It's not over yet! My goal is fifty chapters and I just kind of needed Katniss to agree a little bit.

-1-

It's drizzling lightly —mostly on Katniss's brand new hat. Haymitch keeps sneezing like he has a cold, and Effie keeps checks the watch in her necklace every twelve seconds and muttering about how late the train is. We're at four minutes and fifty-two seconds late now.

Katniss and I are crushed together under a bright red umbrella and Annie's to my left, trying to keep the rain off of her and her son with her own unwieldily umbrella. We're so quiet that you can hear the seconds tick by from Effie's watch-necklace. Annie's son starts scuffing his shoe against the concrete. Haymitch sneezes. Tick-tick-tick-scuff-tick-scuff-tick-scuff-tick-sneeze-tick.

Five minutes and thirty-two seconds late.

I'm starting to think the train got cancelled.

Tick-sneeze-scuff-tick-sneeze-scuff-tick-tick-tick-tick.

"Five minutes forty-four seconds late." Effie breathes. I glance up. Her lips are pursed (not that you'd notice because her lipstick already makes it look like they are) and her eyebrows are drawn together. The eyeliner swirls by her left eye crease. "Five minutes fifty-eight seconds late."

Finally, Haymitch sighs and shakes some rain off his umbrella. Effie makes a huffing noise as water starts sprinkling her clothes and turning the swirls on her cheekbone into black tracks that start streaming down her face. "You can stop that, Effs." He's been calling her that a lot lately. "Let's just go home. She knows where we live."

Effie tilts her chin up in defiance. Katniss shivers and presses closer to my side. "Manners!" She scolds. "It's good manners to wait for your guest!"

Haymitch scratches the stubble on his jaw and sneezes again. "Is it good manners to be on a late train, Effie?" He sneezes again and Effie cringes.

"No..." The left side of her cheek is lightening to grey as the eyeliner gets washed off. Haymitch adjusts the umbrella. "But I suppose that's not her fault. The conductor better get his salary cut." Effie sniffs. "Rude..." She sneezes too. I smile.

"Catching Haymitch's cold, Effie?" I ask. Katniss snickers.

Effie glares at me. "No!" Her and Haymitch sneeze in unison.

Annie cracks a smile, which has been rare since Finnick...

Her son's teeth chatter. "Can we go back, please?" He asks. He's only three, but Effie's already double-checked that his manners are in order. She's teaching him what spoons to use for what —which we all know is ridiculous, but Effie does it anyway.

"It would be bad hosting to leave." Effie says, but her firm tone wavers. She swipes at the makeup running off her cheek and adjusts her hair.

Haymitch sneezes and then we hear the rumbles of the train. Effie scoffs. "Finally."

The train stops and the doors slide open and then Johanna leaps off. She dusts off her shirt like it's no big deal; which it wouldn't be if she wasn't—

"You're freaking pregnant." Katniss states, which is the first thing she's said since we got to the station. Haymitch bursts out laughing and Effie's jaw drops.

Johanna snorts, but her eyes sparkle. "Nice way to greet me, brainless."

"Sorry," Katniss grins and then hugs Johanna. "You didn't even say you were dating anyone! Who is he?"

A man steps off the train. He's a few years older than me, with wide shoulders and muscled wood-cutter's arms. His brown hair hangs in his dark eyes and he puts an arm around Johanna. She leans into him.

The guy smiles warmly, but he looks a little unsure of himself. "Hi. I'm Johanna's husband. My name is Aspen." He extends a hand hesitantly, waiting for someone to shake it. Haymitch and Effie start sneezing again. I shake his hand and smile brightly. It's kind of strange that Johanna's married to someone who seems so timid, but I guess it evens out her bold personality.

"I'm Peeta, Katniss's husband. I—"

"Wait." Katniss breaks away from Johanna and holds up a hand. "You got married and didn't invite us? Or at least tell us?"

Johanna gives her a cold stare. "We eloped."

"You still should have sent an—" Effie pauses her lecture as she sneezes. "Invitation." Haymitch punctuates this with another sneeze.

Johanna eyeballs them for a while. Annie looks at her with this nostalgic, heartbroken look on her face like she's reliving a thousand memories with Finnick. I try to imagine losing Katniss, but just the thought hurts.

"We should get going," Johanna decides, tossing Katniss a bag and a 'you, friend, carry my stuff' expression. "The lovebirds obviously need some rest."

Katniss and I glance up out of habit. I'm used to that term being applied to us, but instead Johanna's sadistic grin is on Haymitch and Effie, who are so sick that they don't even try to deny the accusation. Annie's teeth chatter.

"Good idea," I say, reaching out a hand for Johanna's other bag. Aspen takes it instead. Johanna abs Katniss link arms as they walk.

"I never took you for the kids type." Katniss comments.

"There's a lot you don't know about me." Johanna says seriously and the snorts and tosses her blonde hair over her shoulder. "I wasn't. But this one—" She waggles her hand at Aspen. "Convinced me."

Katniss bursts out laughing and Johanna, Annie, her son and Aspen all stare.

"I don't get how this is funny."

"Because Peeta's been trying to do the same thing to me!"

Johanna snickers and shoots me a look over her shoulder. It's actually supportive, which means she just became Ally Number One in convincing Katniss to have kids.

"So, blondie." Haymitch says. His usual taunting, drunk tone is marred by his cold. "Your hubby's name is Aspen?"

"Yeah." Johanna gives him a 'you got something to say' look.

"Isn't that a tree?"

Katniss giggles and Effie makes a shocked sound. But even Annie is smiling.

"So?"

I glance back at Aspen, who's trailing behind us looking hesitant.

"Are all of you named after trees?" Annie's son asked, which is apparently even funnier than what Haymitch was going to say. This is why I love kids so much. The innocent comment makes uptight, polite Effie grin.

"No," Johanna says calmly, which surprises me. I guess she's practicing for her own kid.

"Oh."

-

Later, I pull Johanna aside.

"How did he convince you?" I demand.

She smiles. "It took him a while. I'm like Katniss: I didn't want kids and I wasn't about to let anyone convince me I did. But...Aspen's really sweet. And he kept making me these beautiful dinners and talking about how wonderful kids are...I don't know." Johanna rubbed a spot by her ear. "It kind of snuck up on me. One day I just realized that I wanted kids too." She pauses to glare at me and punches me in the arm. "Don't tell anyone. I'll look soft." Johanna stares at her belly for a minute, and then a soft smile crosses her lips. "I can help you with Katniss, if you want."

I grin. "Thanks, Johanna."

"No problem. Just don't tell anyone about my fall from grace." She winks at me and then sits by Aspen at the dinner table.

-

"I can't believe Johanna's pregnant!" Katniss whispers as we head to our room. Johanna and Aspen are all settled in the guest room.

I poke Katniss's side. "Jealous?"

She scowls. "No." But I think she is upset that Johanna moved on faster than her. Johanna was never really afraid of anything, except the Capitol. But now it looks like she's scared of nothing and Katniss wants that too.

I kiss her cheekbone. "That could be us in a couple of years."

Katniss smiles hesitantly. "I know."


	27. Effie Is Inadvertently Useful

**A/N: Can I just say I totally love Finnie (FinnickxAnnie)? I cried so hard when he died (and I do, every time I read Mockingjay). He was one of my favourite characters and I loved him with Annie as much as Peeta and Katniss. And I just...I have a lot of feels, guys. Sorry for my doing a...I don't even know, rant, about how much I love Finnick and Finnie and sadness and yeah.**

**GabbyGaspard: Ahaha no it totally is from the Notebook! I was just sitting there, about to post the chapter, and it just came to me. It was better than the previous title so I just rolled with it. I thought I was pretty clever ;)**

**Kilalahinanurato555: I don't know if you noticed, but I am totally in love with cinnamon buns! I don't think they have a cinnamon bun candle at my Bath & Body Works though :/ I do have a Cinnamon Nut Bread one though...**

**Tèa: Maybe not an outright Hayffie hint...I just have a great eye for couples and I'm usually right when I predict them. I think my Hayffie love started when he drunkenly hugged her in the first book. I just like them because their personalities sort of complement each other if you see what I mean. Also, I didn't get to thank you for your Johanna idea! So, thank you :)**

**Thank you to each and every one of you who reviews, I love your feedback! I'm sorry that I don't respond to all of you, I'm kind of lazy. I mostly just respond if I'm answering a question, but I don't want anyone feeling...I don't know...ignored? Overlooked?**

**Thanks to the new readers and the ones who've been reviewing since Chapter 1 and everyone who falls in between.**

"Good morning!" I greet Katniss as she stumbles down the stairs. She answers with a grunt. It's one of her I'm-not-a-morning-person days. She plunks down at her usual seat. I give her a good morning kiss even though Johanna and Aspen are watching.

Katniss smiles faintly and rubs her face. She fiddles with her hair, the rare way she does when she's feeling self-conscious.

"So, what's up for the day, Captain Sunshine?" Johanna stretches her arms above her head and Aspen fidgets like he's not sure what he's supposed to be doing right now.

"Um...we're meeting Haymitch and Effie and Annie in town. Annie's son is spending the day with Greasy Sae's granddaughter." I hesitate, twirling my favourite spoon in the crepe mix.

"That's good for him, then." Johanna finally says. She sounds nothing like herself at all. Maybe it's the pregnancy.

The comment voices what all of us (except maybe Aspen) are thinking. Annie's doing the best that she can, but she's not exactly...stable. She fades out of conversations and losing Finnick means she disappears into her own world more than she used to. Katniss and Johanna exchange sad, pitying glances.

I pour the mix into the pan. It sizzles while we sit in silence.

"I'm going to get dressed." Katniss says, rising from her spot at the table.

"The crepes will be ready in twenty minutes." I say, waiting for a hug or something. Katniss nods and gets up.

Johanna watches as Katniss goes upstairs. If she'd been paying attention, it'd be pretty obvious that Johanna was planning something.

"Okay, we have twenty minutes to activate Plan: Convince Katniss." Johanna says effectively leaning over the table without crushing her swelling stomach. "I say we start by flaunting how happy and excited I am," —Aspen smiles at that— "And then you can talk about legacy and how if one of you died the other would be all alone blah blah blah."

I share a glance with Aspen. I can't see these things working on Johanna, but he smiles like she's telling the truth.

"Only do that with your wonderful golden tongue, Peeta." Johanna snatches a strawberry from the bowl I left on the counter and shoves it in her mouth unattractively.

Aspen laughs. It's low and quiet and reminds me of pines rustling in the wind for some reason. He lays a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Sweetheart," I'm not used to the term being applied to anyone but Katniss, so I start a little. "The expression is silver tongue."

Johanna scowls. "Why? Gold is worth more."

Aspen knits his brows together and glances at me uncertainly. "I'm not sure."

"Well, I like saying gold tongue better." Johanna crosses her arms with an air of finality. She tilts her head in a 'we're done here' kind of way.

Katniss comes back. We eat crepes. No one brings up Annie again.

"You're two minutes late," Effie scolds on sight, adjusting the half-scarf half-shawl draped around her. It doesn't look very warm. Kind of gauzy, like fairy wings or starlight.

"Sorry," Katniss apologizes, trying to put on a remorseful face.

Effie sniffs. "I had the whole day planned and now the schedule is all...ruined." She pauses and taps her chin, staring at the sky. Her eyes move like she's reading a holographic schedule none of us can see. She mumbles to herself. "If I move this...and take out this..." Finally, Effie fixes her eyes on us again. "We have time! Hurry, it's going to be a big, big day!" The familiar phrase puts an absent smile on Katniss's face.

Effie links arms with Annie and grabs Haymitch's hand. She starts running in the direction of the expensive clothing shops and Annie and Haymitch are dragged helplessly behind her.

The four of us that are left behind start after them. Effie's stopped at a store that's painted salmon pink, jarringly bright against the brick or wooden shops around it. Emasili's is the only other store I can think of that's brightly painted (most stores are white, grey, or rusty brick-red), but hers is a soft yellow.

"Ta-da!" Effie trills once we're inside. It's a maternity store, probably funded and owned by the Capitol. We have a lot more stores that sell beautiful things now that the Capitol sends us more money.

"Um...what?" Katniss asks, staring blankly at Effie. Then she flicks a questioning look in my direction, like she's asking if Effie and I cooked this up together. Honestly, I think a maternity store is a pathetic way to convince her to have kids.

"For Johanna," Effie scowls. "I'm taking you girls on a shopping trip. We're going dress-shopping next, and then I even scheduled for an athletic store for you, Katniss."

Katniss looks a little star-struck; but Annie's smiling tentatively, like she thinks maybe this is a good idea after all.

"I didn't even know we had so many stores..." Katniss whispers to me.

I grin and squeeze her hand. "We never come to this part of town." The high-end, expensive clothing stores. Completely funded by the Capitol. I might have come here once since it was built.

"And you..." Effie waggles her fingers at Haymitch, Aspen and I. "Will tell us how great we look in all our outfits! Now go, Johanna! Find some over-sized clothes!" Effie says it the same way she used to say 'Welcome, welcome, to the _ annual Hunger Games!' It has a familiar ring to it.

Johanna darts off like she's participating in a third Game and is running for the Cornucopia. She expertly examines the clothes while we watch quietly. Annie wanders off somewhere. Effie comments on the clothes Johanna looks at.

Eventually, Johanna is stocked up on maternity clothing and we can leave. Effie compliments her skills on extreme speed shopping and then jumps into a rant about clothing.

Katniss ends up being awed by the experience. She mostly bought things for survival in the old days, but even after being a Victor I don't think she really shopped for clothes. She definitely doesn't now. But the dresses in the next store seem to hold some sort of magic to her. Maybe it reminds her of Cinna.

Annie enjoys the trip too. She finds a dress decorated with shells and one with a flowing, lopsided hem. Somehow the clothes keep her focused on the present.

Johanna actually looks like she's having a good time. She forces Katniss to try on a dress that Effie says is vintage and looks like it came from a few hundred years ago. It turns into some joke between them, and they start scouring the store for the ugliest dresses.

Effie, of course, loves shopping. She hustles to the changeroom with an armful of dresses and insists that Haymitch comes with her and tells her how she looks.

That leaves Aspen and I.

"So...how did you meet Johanna?"

"How did you meet Johanna?" He says defensively. I can tell he's not as aggressive as he sounds.

"Quarter Quell," I answer, spilling the words out like if I say them too slowly they'll choke me.

"Oh," Aspen whispers. "Um...when she came back from the war, she went into the woods a lot. She would always sit under this one tree, in my area. And one day that tree was issued to get cut down, and I was assigned to chop it. So...I told her she had to move, and she looks at me and goes 'Why?' And I just remember...how dull her eyes looked. She was still beautiful, but her hair was all shaved off and her eyes looked haunted but stubborn. And I told her that it had to be cut down and she said 'Why this tree?' so I just told her that I was told to cut down that one. And I just remember that she crossed her arms and said 'Chop away, I'm not moving'. I ended up cutting down a different tree."

I smile. Johanna and Katniss rush to the changeroom with another ridiculous dress.

"How did you meet Katniss? In your games?"

I'm a little surprised, since Aspen is so quiet. But I answer anyway. "In kindergarten, the teacher asked who knew The Valley Song and Katniss..." I grin. "Katniss's hand shot right up, and she sang the whole thing in front of everyone. She sings really well. All the mockingjays stop to listen. And I ended up falling in love with her, even though we never spoke." I glance at Aspen. "The Hunger Games," I say it slowly, carefully, like something might break. "They were...terrible and horrifying and unfair, but because of them...well, I kind of have them to thank for having Katniss now."

It's the first time I've seen Aspen smile.

"Peeta!" Katniss tumbles out of the changeroom in a blue dress that's disturbingly pouffy and frilly all over. "Help me pick out a dress!" She laughs as she trips over the hem of her dress.

I study the dresses around me. "This one," I hand her a delicate gold dress that has no sleeves.

"Peeta, this is actually pretty," She says, but she tries it on anyway.

When we move on to the next shop, Katniss holds me hand in one hand and a bag of dresses —the gold one included— in the other.

"That was actually fun," She beams at me, grey eyes sparkling. A strand of hair falls out of her braid and into her eyes.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Katniss smirks mischievously. "You hated it, didn't you?"

I hesitate. "Hate is a strong word."

"You know we'd have to shop a lot for a baby, right? Annie says they grow like crazy."

"Fun," I say, trying to mean it. Katniss seems to think this is incredible.

"I think it actually would be fun to shop for a baby."

I never would have thought of adding shopping to my list.


	28. Goodbye

**A/N: I'm sorry there were no updates the last few weeks. I kind of...I just felt like this was running my life, you know? Anyway. Late start on this one. Why? (Well, lack of motivation) I was busy! Halloween shopping with my friends!**

**Guess what I'm being for Halloween ;)**

**Anyone else dressing up?**

**Everybody: Aw, thank you!**

**-++++++++++++++++mmm**

January twelfth.

I've been dreading this day for a while now.

Katniss is gone when I wake up, but the house is full of noise. Johanna and Aspen.

I start on breakfast —a gigantic omelette with cinnamon toast. It's so quiet I can hear the music from the house Annie is staying in, and the zipper of a suitcase from the guest bedroom.

"Good morning, Peeta." Aspen says, dropping his suitcase on one of the couches and sitting at the table. He talks more now, but his voice is still quiet.

"Morning," I say with a slightly forced smile, dropping a big chunk of giant omelette on his plate. There's a long beat of silence. "What time?"

"Two." Aspen mutters. His voice sounds torn between glum and excited.

"That gives us a few hours then," I grin, doling out more food for Johanna and Katniss. Johanna shows up pretty soon to eat, but Katniss doesn't. Johanna and Aspen run around cleaning up for a while. Effie and Annie and Haymitch and Annie's son join us.

Katniss isn't back until noon.

"Where were you?" I demand as she walks in the door. We've all been sitting in the living room playing board games for an hour. So far, Annie's son likes Chinese Checkers the best.

"Hunting," Katniss says plainly. She's upset, I can tell. She's not ready to deal with them leaving, so she chooses not to.

I glance at the clock. "We've still got two hours. What do you guys want to do?"

Somehow, we end up in the woods.

Katniss takes the lead, pointing out different plants and animals. That one's edible. That one's poisonous. That one will give you diarrhea for a week.

Aspen and Johanna tell us about different trees: the easiest to cut down, the best for keeping a fire going, which ones are native where.

It turns out that Annie knows a lot about birds. Apparently, she's always had a fascination with them. Her son recognizes a lot more than I do.

I know a lot of the spices that grow here, and what breads they're usually used in. Effie picks all sorts of flowers, insisting that her designer had to see them. Haymitch laughed at that.

So, somehow the woods ends ended up being perfect for everyone.

"We should go back now." Katniss said suddenly.

Johanna smirked and opened her mouth like she was about to make a joke, but apparently thought better of it.

"Why?" Annie asks as we turn around. Her son picks a daisy and hands it to her.

"It takes an hour to get to the train station from here." Katniss says flatly, and that's when it really sinks in. In an hour they'll all be gone and it'll be just Katniss and Haymitch and I.

We start back silently, which probably isn't that smart because this is the last time we'll see each other for who knows how long. Katniss hums something that sounds vaguely like the Valley Song and a few Mockingjays pick it up. She starts adding words about stars and hilltops, making the melody even more complicated. Annie's son gazes at the black and white birds as they sing back. Katniss's song ends and he whistles two notes and then laughs in delight as a bird copies him. It's one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. Katniss notices too.

Pretty soon we're out of the woods and back at the houses to grab the bags. It's snowing. I joke about how it's a good time to leave. Effie worries about her hair.

The two o' clock train rolls in. It's not one that goes straight to the Capitol, so Effie will have to pass through the other Districts. Annie says goodbye quietly, giving out hugs and then taking her son's hand. Aspen politely thanks us for having him and shakes my hand. Johanna doesn't go out as simply. She hugs Haymitch and I awkwardly, trying not to crush her belly then throws her arms around Katniss.

"Don't do anything stupid, Brainless." She says, and then she jumps on the train.

Effie's goodbye is the hardest to miss.

She hugs us tightly, kissing our cheeks and then standing in front of us, fanning her face like she's going to cry. "Don't forget to visit!" Effie cries and then hurries onto the train.

I glance at Katniss. Her face is closed off, but her eyes are big and there's a little too much tension around her mouth. She's trying not to cry. Silently, I take her hand.

"It's not for forever," I say. It's not like Finnick or Prim or Rue or Cinna is what I mean.

Katniss curls up against me, nestling her face against my chest. "I know," She says. She starts sobbing into my chest. I just hold her, resting my chin on her head. Her hair smells like cold air.

"We should go," Haymitch says. He looks flat and cold and impassive, like stone. It's freezing cold, but he's hardly shivering. We start walking, Katniss still leaning into me and Haymitch walking by himself, like he thinks he can take on the world alone. We all know he'll be drinking a lot tonight.

"You know, children will be around forever." I whisper to her.

"Until they move out." She mutters back.

"Is that why you're scared of having kids? You're scared of them leaving?"

"Or dying. Or disappearing."

"So you admit you're scared."

Katniss says nothing. We reach Haymitch's house and he leaves with a quiet goodbye.

"I hate goodbyes..." Katniss mumbles.

"I don't think anyone likes them," I say, pulling her closer. She doesn't push me away, but she doesn't lean into me either.

We spend the next few days in a kind of solitude, speaking only to Haymitch. It's strange to live without Effie and Annie and her son and Johanna and Aspen after having them fold seamlessly into our life for so long.

"We should visit Effie for her birthday," Katniss finally suggests on our fifth day without them.

"Good idea," I say, sticking the end of my pen in my mouth. Her birthday's in February, which isn't too far away.

"That would involve going back to the Capitol," Haymitch points out.

"Yeah, but I miss her." Katniss says. I take her hand with my left, scribbling another grocery on my list with my right.

"Me too,"

"I don't miss the Capitol." Haymitch grumbles sourly, taking a swig of beer.

"Yeah, but you miss her." I gesture at him with my pen. Haymitch doesn't say anything, because we all know it's true. Missing someone is the only thing worse than saying goodbye.


	29. Jealousy

**A/N: I'm pretty busy lately for some reason (which is weird because it's November) so updates will probably be every two weeks. Sorry :( Credit to King Kubar for the jealousy idea :D**

RobotQueen: Ohmygoodness, thank you! It gets pretty tough at times, but reviews like your's make it all worth it. My goal is fifty chapters, so at least that many.

jesusfreak94: It'll definitely be a surprise! I'm not sure about a Hayffie marriage. It'd definitely be an interesting twist, but I'm trying to keep this cannon right now (which is a little ridiculous, because I already made Johanna pregnant). We'll just have to see :)

Side note: Just wondering, how many of you are guys? I feel like all of my fans are girls...  
-

"We should drop by the train station today," Katniss comments, dipping her finger into my cookie batter. I jokingly smack her hand away.

"To schedule a trip to the Capitol?" I confirm, batting her away before she can get another taste.

"Yeah. Haymitch is already doing the dinner reservations and hotel for when we get there, so I figured the least we can do is the train." Katniss sits at the island, watching me stir the batter forlornly.

"What hotel?"

"I don't know, some fancy Capitol one."

"I suppose you don't know where we're having dinner, either." I say wistfully, adding chocolate chips to the batter.

Katniss un-peels a banana, her sorry substitute for cookie batter. "Again: some fancy Capitol one."

"We don't even have gifts yet," I point out. In District 12, gifts weren't really necessary. Even if you were from the merchant part of town —like me— you usually brought food or sometimes fabric. But things are different now: there's cafes and clothing stores and even shops for candles or curtains.

Either way, birthday parties in the Capitol involved presents; especially if you were a Victor and had money to spare.

"We can go on the way to the train station." Katniss suggests, finishing off her banana.

"Sounds good," I say, glopping cookie batter on to trays and then sticking them in the oven. "I'll put it on low heat, but we have to be back in an hour. And make sure Haymitch comes over."

"So the house doesn't burn down?"

"And so my cookies don't burn," I quip, kissing her temple. "Be right back, I'm gonna check on Haymitch."

-

"What do you get someone who has everything?" Katniss asks, plucking up another dress from the store Effie took us to. The dress is green, and silky and gauzy and translucent. It's loose and smooth and the bottom would dance around the wearer's ankles. It would look amazing on Katniss, but the green is too pallid and has a blueish tinge. It's the kind of colour Annie would wear.

"Scrapbooks?" I suggest, rifling through a series of orange dresses. "Tickets to a secret club or something?"

"I don't think they have those in the Capitol."

I made a sound of agreement, pulling out a long shirt that's bright orange. The left side has a strip of orange lace and the right is adorned in feathers. "How about this one?"

Katniss gives it a quick look-over. "Too Capitol."

I put it back with a subtle frown. "You said the last one wasn't Capitol enough."

"Well, I want her to wear it! I want her to stand out, and she can only do that if it looks like something we would wear. But if it's too normal, she won't wear it." Katniss reasons, yanking a vibrant blue dress from her pile. A line of frustration is appearing between her eyebrows.

"Okay," I soothe. I skim a hand along her back. "I'm going to look at the jewelry."

Katniss gives a noncommittal grunt, filtering through a stack of pastel dresses. The whole Effie-gift thing is making her grumpier than usual.

"How's this?" I try, lifting a necklace with a big bronze flower. It's actually a ring on a chain, so you can wear it as both types of jewelry. The flower opens like a locket, so you can store things. The chain itself is long and silver, which is a little strange with the bronze flower, but Effie would like it.

Katniss glances up, her grey eyes widening. It reminds me of sunshine on a cloudy day, the way the grey parts to let the light in. She strides over to me, taking the bronze flower in her hands at pressing it open. Katniss studies it for a while, running a finger over the riveted metal. She meets my gaze, smiling brightly. "This is perfect!" She kisses me hard. "You are amazing."

"I know," I grin, easing the necklace from her hands. "Shall we?"

Katniss smirks at the formal way I offer my elbow, light dancing in her eyes. She takes my arm. "Yes."

-

"Do you have any trains leaving for the Capitol on the tenth?" I ask the woman at the ticket booth. She's pretty, about twenty, with soft brown hair and warm hazel eyes. She has a pale brown birthmark on her cheekbone.

The woman scrolls through something on her computer, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She gives me a pleasant smile. "There's one at six a.m. and one at seven p.m." She offers. Her name tag reads Alyra.

I glance at Katniss. "The one at six would get us there at five on Effie's birthday, right?"

She narrows her eyes, calculating. "Five-thirty, I think. But yeah. The reservations are for seven, I think."

"You guys are visiting Effie? As in, Effie Trinket?" Alyra's eyes go big and her cheeks flush. "Oh my gosh! You're Peeta!"

I grin nervously. "Yeah." I don't think I'll ever get used to fame: to people I don't know calling my name and asking me where Katniss is. Although, most people in District 12 don't bother Katniss and I; the same way they don't bother Haymitch.

Alyra's hands start shaking. Her nails are painted silver. "Oh my goodness! I have all your interviews. I'm naming one of my kids after you!"

Katniss gasps. I swallow awkwardly. Alyra looks confused for a second, then smacks her hands over her mouth.

"I'm_ so_ sorry!" She starts wringing her hands, hazel eyes suddenly very green. "You probably think I'm really creepy now." She starts shuffling papers around, then frantically switches to madly typing on her computer. "I'm sorry, I'll just get your tickets and—"

I put a hand on top of hers, stilling her jittery fingers. "Hey. It's okay. I don't think you're creepy." I shoot her a reassuring smile. What I don't understand is why she would have my interviews, or care so much. No one in the Districts obsess over people on T.V. I didn't recognize her from District 12.

Then I see it. The birthmark under her cheek is shaped like a Mockingjay. She has a tattoo of a loaf of bread on the inside of her wrist. One of her eyes has an orange speck in the pupil.

She is from the Capitol.

"You-you don't?" Alyra blinked up at me. The orange speck seemed to lock right on me.

"No," I try for another smile, but I'm faking now. Alyra doesn't seem to notice.

"Oh, good." She lets out a long, relieved sigh. I glance at Katniss, who gives me a stony look and frowns in Alyra's direction.

Alyra puts her other hand on top of mine. The silver nail polish is chipped and glittery. "I'm so glad. I'm your biggest fan. I would have thirty of your kids."

Katniss steps closer to the booth, so she's between me and Alyra. She puts a hand on my bicep, fingers clenching hard.

"Thirty kids?" My head is spinning. Alyra is wearing some sort of heady perfume: like tulips and cleaning supplies. Even to my dizzy brain, thirty kids is a lot. A dozen is a lot. I think just two is good. Two or three or maybe four. At least two.

Alyra nods eagerly. "Thirty. That's like, thirty years of being pregnant." She wrinkles her nose at the idea. It's a little sickening, actually —the thought of someone being pregnant for thirty years.

Alyra's eyes widen again, this time more brown than green. "That was crossing a line, wasn't it? I'm sorry, I'm so stupid."

Katniss's fingers dig deeper into my arm. I can feel her fingernails through my coat. "How much are the tickets?" Her tone is forced. Anyone who doesn't know her well would describe that voice as too sweet. It's not. It's bitter and hard with a sugary coating: like burnt cake caked in frosting.

Alyra blinks slowly. "Fifty seventy-five..."

Katniss snatches up the tickets and slams the money on the table. "Thank you," She growls. She starts off, dragging me with her. Katniss pauses and looks over her shoulder at Alyra. "And don't ever think about having kids with my husband again."

I glance back. Alyra's blinking dumbly again, mouth drawn in an angry line. Her eyes look amber.

"Next time, let's get someone else to sell us tickets. A guy. That's not from the Capitol." Katniss's voice is bitter and her grey eyes are like flint.

I study her carefully. She's still gripping my arm —protectively or possessively, it's hard to tell. "You're jealous."

"Why would I be jealous of her? I was protecting you. She's obviously crazy."

"I don't think she's crazy," I say, "I just think she doesn't think before she talks."

Katniss looks at me blankly. "She wanted to have thirty kids with you."

"She probably meant three. I think three kids would be nice."

"That's why I'm jealous," Katniss says, staring at the cobblestone beneath our feet. "She'll happily have thirty kids with you while I...I don't want kids. And you want them so badly..."

I tilt her chin up, studying her silver eyes. She's terrified. I take her face in both of my hands. "I will never leave you, Katniss. Never." I tuck a stray piece of hair back in her braid. "Okay?"

"Promise?"

"Always."

She smiles at the familiar term, offering me her hand against the cold. "Good."

-  
**A/N: That came out a lot creepier than I planned...  
**


	30. Blame It ON The Capitol

**A/N: FOUR HUNDRED REVIEWS! YES! I feel like a celebrity now, guys. Don't mind me.**

**You guys ask me this a lot, but for the last time: I'm doing at least fifty chapters. Do we have duplication? ;)**

**King Kubar: I totally wanted to write the last chapter in Katniss's POV! And yeah, it wasn't how I expected, either. I think maybe I will do one Katniss's POV, but it'd either be the last chapter or a companion one-shot. Not sure, but I'll definitely be thinking about it. Thanks for the idea, by the way!**

**This is ridiculously late. I'm really sorry about that, actually. I have a lot of excuses, but I'm trying not to make excuses anymore.**

The trees outside blur together, until the forests just became huge swaths of green. The train is moving too fast; or maybe I'm dizzy. Granted, the inside looks nothing like the first one I'd taken to the Capitol, but it's hard not to remember. I've checked out the rooms already. It isn't a Hunger Games train, so there are more people and it is less fancy. The main area is filled with booths full of families and couples instead of plush chairs and tables and wine.

I focus on the view again. The trees had individualized themselves again. It was just me, then.

Haymitch sits across from me, trying to drink without getting caught by the shark-like attendant. That's not literal, by the way. She's clearly from District 1, she just lurks around and snaps at us like some sort of ferocious beast. And she keeps shooting hungry stares at the guy sitting alone in the corner. He doesn't seem to notice.

Katniss is in the bathroom.

The trees are blurring again. My head is starting to throb. My fingers are trembling. I try to clench them into fists, but they're already past my control.

"Peeta?"

Part of me snaps at the sound of that voice. My fingers are clenching now, but it's against my will.

"Oh, please, not right now."

"Is he okay?"

"What's happening?"

The voices are blending together, like the trees outside my window. I can't find the window anymore. My vision is blurring, turning colours and faces into just white. The white fades, and there she is. She's scowling. Her lips are moving, mouthing the same words over and over: "It's all your fault."

I lock my jaw. I have to fight. I have to get back to the train. And Katniss.

Katniss.

"Fight for me."

Always.

My breathing's shaky. I struggle to get a clean breath in. I don't how long it takes. When I finally manage it, my vision clears. Katniss is holding one of my hands. My knuckles are white from holding on too tight.

The attendant and several other people are standing next to our booth, watching in a sort of concerned curiosity. A few are looking at me in fear. Haymitch is reading a newspaper, probably trying to hide his drink.

"Better?" Katniss asks, releasing her hand from my grasp and putting it on my forehead like she's checking my temperature.

"Yeah," I croak, taking her hand off my forehead and examining it closely. Her fingers are red.

She gazes into my eyes like the others are already gone. Like we can just be Peeta and Katniss. Her eyes are full of concern that most people don't notice. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

I nod enthusiastically. "I'm fine. We're not wrecking Effie's birthday."

Katniss cracks a smile. "It's going to be a big, big day."

"So where's the restaurant?" Katniss asks again. She's in a sparkling red dress that makes the Capitol's streets look grey and dirty in comparison. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to wear that one, because to me it looks almost exactly like the one she wore in the first games. She looks like Katniss Everdeen, Girl On Fire.

"Two blocks from here," Haymitch says gruffly, ignoring her persistence.

"Are you sure? It's not like we spend all of our time wandering around the Capitol."

I glance over my shoulder. Someone's bound to recognize us soon. Especially since we're all together.

"Next time can we have a train that will take us closer?"

Haymitch rolls his eyes exasperatedly, pushing past a lady with snakes for hair and blue lipstick. "Trains don't have stops right next to restaurants, sweetheart."

Katniss scowls. "It was worth a try."

Haymitch randomly veers and pushes open a door. I don't have enough time to catch what the sign reads, but this is clearly the restaurant. Katniss grabs my hand.

Haymitch saunters right up to the counter, even though there's already a line. "Reservation for Abernathy." He says coldly, and the hostess leads him to our table.

As soon as we're seated, she regards us slowly. "You're Katniss and Peeta," She states firmly, pointing at the two of us with our entwined hands. "And you're Haymitch."

"Yeah," Haymitch says gruffly, in his 'get on with it' tone. "When will our waitress be here?"

"Five minutes." She answers, and then turns back to Katniss and I. "How come you guys don't have kids yet?" She asks, resting an elbow on the table and leaning towards us. Her dark brown hair is ridiculously long, and hangs around her waist like a curtain.

"We're only twenty-one," I say simply, because I don't want to get into the whole Katniss-doesn't-actually-want-kids thing.

The hostess rests her head in her hand. "Yeah, but you were pregnant when you were eighteen, right?"

"Seventeen," Katniss corrects quietly, even though it's a lie.

"Right," She agrees, watching us with big brown eyes. I kind of feel like she's waiting for us to mess up, or admit that a lot of what the Capitol knows about us is nothing but lies. "So why don't you want any now?"

"We're just not ready," I admit.

"Can we get sone drinks, please?" Haymitch growls.

The hostess straightens. "Oh, right. Sorry, Haymitch. Your waitress will be right with you. It was nice meeting all of you." She waves daintily in a very Capitol-esque way and returns to her post at the front desk.

I scoot closer so that my lips are against Katniss's ear. "See?" I whisper. "Even the hostess wants us to have kids."

Katniss frowns at me. "I'm not having kids with you because someone in the Capitol thinks we should."

Haymitch laughs dryly, twirling his wine glass gently like there's actually alcohol in it.

"Hi, my name is Juno and I'll be your waitress this evening. Can I start you off with some drinks?"

"Beer," Haymitch says automatically.

"Okay! Do you want—"

"Doesn't matter." Haymitch practically snaps in his 'this conversation ends here' voice.

The waitress tilts her head in our direction. Her hair is dyed aqua and she has purple glitter on her eyelids. "What do you two want?"

"Lemonade," Katniss mumbles. She usually orders it in the Capitol, and I've never really figured our why. I consult the menu for a while and finally decide on a tea I've never had before that sounds really good.

"There she is," Haynitch says, staring at the window.

"Who?" The waitress asks perkily. Haymitch shoots her a glare and she scurries away in a cloud of glitter.

I follow Haymitch's gaze. A pink-haired woman is climbing out of a long red vehicle just outside the window. Her dress is red like Katniss's, with a few pink hearts. She's matched it with ridiculously high heels and a gold purse. She has gold sparkles in her coiled, curled hair and her lips are cherry red. Still, it's unmistakably Effie.

Somehow, Effie manages not to trip as she strides into the restaurant, and politely waits at the back of the line. She keeps shooting aggravated looks at the line. We showed up early, and clearly she knows that she's two minutes from being late. It seems like she's counting how long it will take for the dozen people ahead of her to get seated.

Haymitch gestures to a passing waiter. "You see that woman there? In the red?" Haymitch points to her, and then checks to make sure the waiter knows who he's talking about.

"Yes, sir." The waiter says: clearly recognizing Haymitch as a person you don't argue with.

"Can you escort her to this table?"

"Um, sir, I'm not really—"

"Now."

The waiter leaves to go get Effie. I try to start up a dinner conversation while we wait, but Katniss and Haymitch aren't very talkative. Haymitch is just sitting there silently, like a soldier waiting for instructions. Katniss keeps fiddling with the skirt of her dress and her hair and her necklace, like she thinks she had to look perfect —which is stupid, because she's beautiful.

"Oh. Hello."

Effie's suddenly standing in front of our table, pink hair and all, her arm clutched in the server's grip at the bicep. She blinks at us rapidly in confusion. Her eyelids are painted with gold eye glitter. It kind of reminds me of the eyeliner Cinna used to have.

"Hey," I say, and Katniss waves weakly. Haymitch pats the spot next to him, and Effie sits down hesitantly. She sits silently with her lips pursed, and then finally bursts.

"What did you three think you were doing? I was on my way to a Valentine's day party, when all of a sudden this man practically drags me into a limo and drives me all the way out here! And now there's too much traffic and I'll be late!" Effie's hand skitters across the table as she stares out the window frantically. "I'm going to be late!" She repeats, glaring at us one at a time, like being late is a serious felony.

Haymitch reaches across the table and grabs her wrist. Effie's fingers pause their nervous thrum and she stares at him with big blue eyes. "It's okay. You're not going to the party."

"But—"

"You are going to stay here and have a nice dinner with us for your birthday. And then the limo will take you home and we'll go back to our hotel."

Effie blinks at us in disbelief. "You're staying in a hotel?"

"Yes." Haymitch says calmly, like he's speaking to a spooked animal.

Effie scoffed, crumpling up a napkin for no reason. "Not in my town! Give me your keys." She held her hand out expectantly, copper and red nail polish glinting in the restaurant's dim golden lights.

"But Haymitch already made reservations for the weekend." Katniss pipes up.

"And our luggage is already there." I add.

Effie waves her hand dismissively. "If you stay here for my birthday, or to see me at all, I will not have you staying in a hotel."

"But—"

"You never expect me to stay in a hotel when I visit."

I exchange a look with Katniss. "We don't really have hotels."

"You're the only person besides Annie and Johanna that ever bothers to visit." Katniss says flatly, crossing her arms and staring down the table with stormy grey eyes.

Effie sniffs daintily. "Still. It's bad hostess-ship." She says stubbornly. I didn't know hostess-ship was even a word."

"Fine!" Haymitch grumbles. "We'll go back and cancel our reservations after dinner."

"Good," Effie said, smoothing out one of those fancy cloth napkins —the one she crumpled, I guess— and folding it neatly on her lap. "Now, where's the waitress?"

Right on cue, the aqua-haired waitress pops up beside our table with a tray of drinks. "Beer," She says, putting it in front of Haymitch. Effie looks at him disapprovingly. "lemonade," She nudges the yellow drink towards Katniss. "and tea." The waitress beams, placing a mug in front of me. Her eyes are grey, which strikes me as odd, somehow. I don't think I've ever seen someone in the Capitol with grey eyes.

"Thank you," I grab my mug.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

Effie steals a menu from a neighbouring table and consults it for a ridiculously long time. "The grapefruit cocktail." Effie says finally, returning the menu.

"Okay, great!" The waitress pipes up enthusiastically. "You're Effie Trinket, right? I'm totally, like, your biggest fan!"

Effie stares at her Luke she can't decide whether to be arrogant or pleased. "Really?"

"Yeah! And Peeta and Katniss! You guys are so adorable! Do you have kids yet?"

"We're only twenty-one," I point out, at the exact same time that Katniss says "We haven't even been married for a year."

"So?" The waitress demands, flapping a hand indifferently. "I'm twenty and I've only been married for three months and I'm pregnant." She shoots Katniss an irritated look, like 'get knocked up already'. I try not to laugh.

Katniss glares at her. "Can you just go get Effie's drink?"

"Oh, right! Sorry, Effie!" The waitress zips off.

Haymitch bursts out laughing as soon as she's out of sight. "Seems like everyone wants you pregnant but you, sweetheart."

Katniss scowls at him. "Shut it, Haymitch." He smirks at her until Effie glares at both of them.

"You're not allowed to spend Effie's birthday fighting." I point out democratically.

"Thank you, Peeta." Effie says. There's a beat of awkward silence before Effie fills it. "It was Octavia's Valentine's Day party, you know. Nasum Freey is suppoused to be there."

"Who?" Katniss asks, looking up, stirring her lemonade with her straw absently.

"Nasum Freey." Effie repeats, staring at us in surprise. The trademarked Capitol kind that's mixed with a bit of scorn.

"And who's that?" Haymitch inquires blandly, probably for our benefit.

"He's an actor." Effie says slowly. "He's very famous, and very handsome." I find it funny that he's so fawned over with a name like Nasum (which a girl I went to school with once pointed out sounds like nasally), but I don't comment. It's not a nice thing to say, anyway.

"That's nice," Katniss says dryly. "But we want to hear about how you're doing, not some stupid party."

Effie taps a finger on the table. "One of my friends bought me a new dress and my favourite soap opera is airing a new season. Oh, and fur is in again! So, I'm doing well. What about you, Katniss?"

"I'm good." She replies, which is what she says when nothing exciting is happening, but she's happy. Katniss smiles, sipping lemonade. "Peeta made a new icing flavour."

Effie glances at me, pleased. "What flavour?"

I blush. "It's kind of a cinnamon-y icing, with some chocolate mixed in. I can make you some, if you want."

"That'd be lovely, Peeta; thank you." Effie beams. "What about you, Haymitch?"

He grunts noncommittally, staring at the table. Then he notices Effie's patient expression. "Fine. The geese are fine, before any of you ask."

I crack a smile. The whole Haymitch-geese thing was comical and unexpected; when he first told us, Katniss and I burst out laughing. "Oh, good," I say. "I was hoping they wouldn't fly South on you."

Effie giggles and Katniss grins. Haymitch glares at me.

"They'll fly South about the same time your cupcakes do," He growls.

Juno the waitress returns, ending our exchange of witty banter. "Here's your cocktail, Effie! Are you guys ready to order?" She winks at Katniss and I.

We do it as quickly as possible, hoping she doesn't bring up the Katniss/Peeta kids fiasco. Haymitch laughs as she leaves, watching how she bounces on her high heels as she walks: hair puffing ridiculously, arms extended at her sides for balance, and legs threatening to give way.

"She's like a tightrope walker at the circus," Haymitch chuckles, crossing his arms behind his head. It's the first hint of a good mood we've seen all night.

"A what?" Katniss demands.

"Tightrope walker. These people that walks across these ropes high above the ground, ready to fall and die at any moment." He takes a sip of beer. "You'd like it, Effie. I'm surprised it isn't still around for Capitol entertainment."

Effie sniffs indignantly, like she recognizes that it's an insult, or at least a sadistic outlook on the Capitol's equally sadistic Games. I think I'd rather walk across a million tightropes than go through the Games again. I've never been afraid of heights, and falling to your death isn't the worst way to go.

"Circuses," Effie says finally, "were ridiculous. Everyone dressing up in ugly colours and puffy pants with rainbow hair and doing stupid things." I find this ironic, because it's such an apt description of Capitol citizens, but I don't say so. Effie is our friend.

Haymitch doesn't seemed as concerned. "I seem to remember your wig being rainbow one year," He points out, "and weren't puffy pants in a few years ago?"

"That was a long time ago, and puffy pants will never make a comeback!"

"Weren't they the style a few decades ago, too? That means they already have."

"Well, they're not making another one!"

"It's almost guaranteed that they will. Like rhinestone underwear and dog features. Do you remember how you almost altered your nose to be dog-like?"

"I would never do that! Dogs are disgusting creatures."

"So it was a cat nose, then?"

I tune out Haymitch and Effie's bickering. Her face is going red while he looks like he's having the time of his life. Usually Effie takes longer to snap and start trading insults.

Katniss smirks. "Can you imagine Effie with a dog nose?"

I grin. "It'd look terrible. I'm glad she made the right decision."

Katniss scoots closer, interlacing her fingers. "Not about the wig, though." She snickers, and I smile wider.

"No, I can't say she did. But you never know, maybe it looked better in reality. We can always go look for rainbow wigs after this and try them on."

Katniss bursts out laughing, louder this time. "And maybe after that we'll buy puffy pants and go tightrope walking."

I'm about to add to our witty banter, but Juno and another waitress pop up with our food. The other girl nearly drops her tray when she sees us.

"You're Peeta and Katniss!" She squeals, somehow not spilling food as she hops up and down and points at us. Capitolites continue to surprise me in their balance and ability to defy gravity.

"Yep," I say. I don't think I'll ever be used to fame.

"Here! Together! Where I work!" She squeals again, louder this time, making people glance in our direction.

"Yep," Katniss says, leaning her head on her hand and finding mine under the table.

"Who'd you get to babysit your kids?"

Katniss's hand slips and her head almost hits the table. "What kids?" She splutters.

"Your kids. You two." The other waitress points at us and opens her mouth like she needs to elaborate.

"We don't have any kids!" Katniss snaps, glaring at me indignantly like this is all my fault. I shoot her a winning smile.

"But in the Quarter Quell—"

"That was a miscarriage, remember?" I cut in smoothly.

"Oh, right." The girl recalls. Her skin is red and her eyes are widest with glowing eyelashes. Her ears are pointed. "And then you got kidnapped and Katniss had to save you," She sighs dramatically. "That was so romantic." She practically swoons all over her friend. Juno shrugs her off with a disgusted look.

I squeeze Katniss's hand. The whole saving-me thing was almost anything but romantic.

"Here's your soup," Juno says dutifully, handing it to Effie. "And yours," She passes a bowl to Katniss.

"And then you got married right after and lived happily ever after, right?" The red-skinned girl grins enthusiastically. I'm a little surprised about the happily-ever-after part, because the Capitol seems to enjoy the sad, tragic, beautiful love affair of the star-crossed lovers from District 12.

"Sure," Katniss supplies.

"That's adorable!" The girl cries, finally dropping her tray and squeezing her hands together dreamily. "If only I was that lucky,"

"Cleopatra!" Juno screams, dealing out the last of our food and staring at the mess of shattered glass and food the red-skinned girl made.

"Hm?"

"What did you do!" Juno looks ready to tear her own hair out.

"Oh no!"

We eat and watch them scramble around to clean up the mess. It's quite entertaining actually.

Effie scowls at us. "You have to wait until Haymitch has his food!" She scolds. "Honestly, where are your manners?"

"It's okay, Effie. They have to remake my food anyway."

"Still."

"What's going on here?" A big man is suddenly next to our table, towering over the two waitress scrabbling to clean up the mess.

Juno bounces to her feet immediately, pointing at the waitress behind her. "Cleopatra did it!"

"I did not!" Cleopatra bounds to her feet. "It was Peeta and Katniss," She tries.

The man —the manager, I guess— looks at us, an eyebrow raised.

"No, it was definitely you." I state flatly. The manager nods agreeably.

"Cleopatra, come with me. Juno, clean this up." Juno stares at him exasperatedly, but he's already gone. She runs off —to get a broom or something, I guess.

"Dinner and a show," Katniss says, smiling.

"Dinner for you." Haymitch corrects.

"You can have some of mine, if you want, Haymitch." I offer.

He grunts and drinks more beer.

"Um, here's your replacement dinner...sir." A guy says, holding out a tray apologetically.

"That was fast," I comment.

Katniss grins. "They probably found out how patronizing Cleopatra is." She winks at me.

"Well, naturally. It's bad manners to be slow with replacement dinners. That's how you lose customers." Effie replies, waiting until Haymitch takes a bite before she picks up her spoon. "Especially is the servers are so impolite."

"Wait, you're Effie." The guy says, and I'm once again struck with dèja vu. "And Haymitch and Katniss and Peeta. Whoa."

Effie smiles like she appreciates being recognized. Haymitch doesn't seem to care, but he's smirking like he knows what question's coming. We all do.

"Haymitch, are you ever going to settle down and have kids?"

Katniss chokes on whatever she's eating and tries to change her chuckling to coughing. Effie and I burst into laughter. Haymitch glares at all of us.

Sometimes, I believe in karma.

**Crappy ending, but whatever. This whole chapter was on-again, off-again. I love the part where Juno blames Cleo, just 'cause I had such a vivid mental image when I wrote it. And don't worry, unless something unexpected happens, next chapter will be up in, at most, two weeks. Thanks for the persistent love!  
**


	31. Baby Names

**A/N: This was surprisingly easy to write (except for the Finnick part. I wanted to cry there) until about halfway through. I thought I'd be stuck after how long the last chapter took me. Granted, I kept changing the order of the different moments, but still.**

**There's a massive time skip here. Like, three months-ish. Later on, I'm doing one that takes place on Peeta's birthday (which I always pictured being in March for some reason), so I'm kind of disappointed that I have to wait a while now. I can't just throw it in there when it's supposed to be Fall, now can I? ;)**

**Dancinghld: Yes! I've induced a spit-take! One life-goal accomplished! ;D hahaha.**

**King Kubar: You're absolutely right. I am running out of ideas. I'm glad you still like it, though. I find it funny that you guys find me so entertaining, because in real life I point out a lot of puns and laugh at my own jokes. I guess I'm just better on paper. ;)**

**Leli77: The ending won't be different from Mockingjay, but I'm not just going to re-state what it says. The ending will probably just be preggers Katniss. I forgot what I was because I was a bad writer and didn't write it down. ;D**

**Soccergirlx1810: No, I like it. I need more ideas, so thank you :)**

#######

"Peeta, if you had kids, what would you name them?"

I look up from my breakfast in a state of shock. "Pardon?"

"If you had kids, what would you name them?" She repeats, spooning up another mouthful of oatmeal.

"I think Euphony is really pretty," I say thoughtfully. "Or maybe Epiphany. Euphony is my favourite, though."

Katniss nods slowly, considering it. "What about for a boy?"

"Hm...I'm not sure. I'll get back to you when I think of something." I reply, taking another bite of toast and mulling over a few names in my head. What I didn't imagine was the idea that Katniss would actually continue this discussion, or how vital it becomes to convincing her to have kids.

Thank goodness for curiosity.

;;;;;;;;;

"Mauve."

"What?"

"Yesterday you asked me what I wanted to name our kids if we had any."

"I said 'your'."

"Anyway. Mauve, for a boy."

Katniss looks at me suspiciously. Or maybe she's eying the way my paintbrush is dripping paint all over the wooden floor. "What does it mean?"

"It's a colour," I say, gesturing to my paintbrush and how I came across this particular epiphany.

"What does it look like?"

"It's light purple, like lilac."

"Really? Because I pictured a kind of reddish brown. Like cedar trees, but darker."

"Yeah, but you usually picture colours you've never heard of like that."

"You just suggested to name our imaginary son Purple."

"Not purple; Mauve. And I guess it's more of a girl's name, now that you've pointed it out."

Katniss smiles. "Go finish your picture."

"What are you reading?" Katniss asks, peering over my shoulder, her breath warm on my neck and her arm curled around me.

"This," I hold the cover up for her inspection. "I'm not that far yet, but it's really interesting." I close the book and turn towards her. "How do you feel about the name Rhine?"

Katniss considers it. "Pretty. It sounds like some sort of jewel or something. Pretty but strong. Like a diamond."

I take her hand, studying it. "It used to be a river in what used to be Europe."

"Is the river still there?"

"Yeah, but they changed the name."

Katniss smiles. "Then I like it."

"Cedar."

"Hm?" I look up from my cookbook to find Katniss standing in the doorway, breathless, with her bow in her hand and leaves in her braid.

"Cedar. If we had a son. Like the tree."

I smile. "You would think of that, wouldn't you?"

"Peeta, I just ran all the way here to tell you that before I forgot. Don't patronize me."

I grin and kiss her cheek. "I'll add it to the list."

ūūūūū

"You know how some people name their kids after spices?"

"Yeah," Katniss says glancing between the kitchen cupboard holding the spices and the cupboard where we keep the tribute candles. Obviously, she's thinking of Rue and Clove.

"Well, there's one called Rosemary that would make a pretty girl's name, and one called Thyme that would be good for a boy." I say, adding the former to the pork I'm making.

"I don't know, Rosemary's pretty dainty."

I don't bring up Prim even though I could. "It can survive on just the water from the sea breeze," I say.

"It's still dainty." Katniss hesitates. "But remember it anyway."

"Huh."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm just reading Effie's monthly report." Katniss doesn't glance up from the long letter in her hands. I have to admit, when Effie brought up her proposal of writing monthly letters on her birthday, I didn't think that anyone would actually go through with it. In fact, I'm surprised we're still writing them. I catch Haymitch scribbling furiously when I pop over sometimes. The first one Katniss stubbornly insisted on writing and didn't ask for my input until a few months later. I thought the idea was kind of ludicrous when I first saw Katniss working on that letter; especially since Effie would be coming down for my birthday about a week before she got it.

"Anything interesting?"

"She went to a party and Johanna and Aspen were there."

"Really? Maybe we should get them to write us monthly letters too."

Katniss laughs. "Remind me of that next time they visit. Oh!" She finally glances up from her letter. "Jo's hunting for baby names and I thought maybe we could offer her something from a the names we have on our list."

"Our list." I repeat.

"Yeah. You know how we keep bringing up baby names and talking about how they're on our list?"

"We don't actually have a list, though. I haven't written any down."

Katniss glares at me like I just said I forgot how to make cheese buns and lost the recipe. "Well, go right now! I don't want us to forget any. Oh, and add Quartz." I glance at her skeptically, an eyebrow raised and a smile creeping onto my face. "Effie started talking about her new necklace." Katniss supplies, and I nod in satisfaction. It sounds like a District 1 name, to be honest, and I know Katniss never liked those.

"Okay, anything else?"

"Can you make me some hot chocolate?" She pleads, widening her stormy eyes in an attempt to look helpless and adorable. "Please?"

I smile. "Katniss, it's the middle of June."

"Pleeeease?"

"Okay," I kiss the top of her head. "But you're writing the monthly letter."

She smiles gratefully. I know she doesn't mind the letter, she just gets writer's block and it frustrates her. She usually hands the letter off to me when she gets stuck and asks for help. "Okay."

"Okay, what's that one?"

"Capricorn."

"Okay," I grin, pointing at another constellation. "How about that one?"

"Hercules."

"How do you know all of these, anyway?"

"My dad. And the ones I didn't know were in that Astrology book."

"The purple one?"

"Yeah."

"Hm," I gaze back at the stars for a moment. It's nice out here, with the long, damp grass at my back and the breeze on my face, with the sky above me and Katniss beside me.

There's a scattering of stars just over our heads that reminds me of two people embracing. "Do you know what that one's called?" I say, twining my fingers with hers and pointing upward.

Katniss squints up at them, studying them for ages before saying anything. "Well, right there" —she takes my hand and directs my finger into the shape of a fish— "is Lyra. And the rest are just stars."

"Lyra," I smile, squeezing her hand. "I like it."

"Is it going to go on the list?" She grins at me, grey eyes glittering like the lights above us.

"Yes," I scan the skies. "And that one?"

"Perseus."

"Perseus," I repeat. "Can that go on the list, too?"

"Sure," There's another beat of silence. "Why do you want to name our kids after stars, anyway?"

I note the way she says 'our' and smile. "Because they're constant. I feel like they'll always be there."

Katniss's eyebrows knit together. "You know stars die, right? They explode."

I pull her closer. "Okay. But they never fall."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Just that it'd be nice if..."

"Nice if what?" I ask, kneeling next to her. The Book's in her hands, her fingers stroking the blank pages. She flips back a few, watching pictures and names and faces blur past. It lands on Finnick.

"If we named our kids after these people. Not their first names I guess, that'd be too..."

"Too hard?"

"Yeah. So I was thinking, maybe their middle names could be after them. So they know they matter, and that we're thinking of them."

"That sounds good," I say, kissing her head. She traces a finger over Finnick's name, over the words scrawled on the page. "I think it's a great idea." I stand up. "I'll make you some cheese buns, okay? And tea."

Katniss nods silently, flipping again. It lands on Leeg 1. I know she feels bad that she never knew her name. But I also know she doesn't want to talk right now, and she doesn't want to listen. So I leave her with pictures and memories that will never fade.

%%%%%%%

"What's your favourite bird?"

"Mockingjays, probably."

"Did you know there's a type of bird called an Archer's Lark?" I ask absently, threading another clover into her hair. The soft green contrasts beautifully with her rich, dark hair.

"If only they lived here."

I smile. "Maybe there's a Baker's Lark, too."

"Or a Drinker's Lark."

I laugh. It feels good to laugh out here in the woods. I can see why she likes it so much.

"How do you feel about the name Clover?" I ask, twisting another one of the little green plants into her hair.

She's silent for a while and I can tell she's picturing what a girl named Clover would look like. "I like it."

I pick a daisy and tuck it behind her ear. "Perfect."

••••O•••••

"It's a full moon tonight."

"Really?"

"Yep. Wanna stargaze tonight?" Katniss turns around to shoot me a smile.

"Like two star-crossed lovers," I grin, standing behind her and wrapping my arms around her waist. I press a kiss to her neck. "You're getting rabbit guts all over my nice counter."

"_Our_ counter," She corrects scraping more skin off the rabbit.

"And yet _I'm_ the only one that uses it," I tease, carefully extracting the knife from her grasp.

"I'm using it!" Katniss says, snatching back her knife.

"Just clean up after," I kiss her cheek and free her. "I'll be waiting outside, okay?"

"Luna."

"What?"

"Luna. For a girl."

I ignore the way she's getting blood on my counter and that I have to wait outside by myself. I grab her in my arms and kiss her.


	32. Waiting

**A/N: Hey. I really want to thank you guys for always sticking with me, especially when I run out of ideas and don't update for a month. Seriously. Internet mansions for you all. With hot tubs.**

* * *

"Hey, so I was thinking, when we have kids, we could get Baurun on my old street to make the cradles."

"We're not having kids, Peeta." Katniss says sullenly, staring at me with grey eyes that are like puddles and lakes at the same time.

"No, not now. When you're ready."

"I don't think I'll ever be ready." She says. I note the way she's sitting on the bathroom floor, like she crumpled against the wall and slid down.

"Katniss? Are you okay?" I kneel next to her, pressing a palm to her forehead.

"I'm fine," she snaps, shrugging away from my touch. Katniss is clutching something in her right hand, the one farthest away from me, and I'm not sure, but I think it's a pregnancy test.

"Are you sure?"

Katniss sighs, leaning her head back against the wall and turning away from me. "Just go, Peeta. You have to make a cake for Delly's birthday."

She's right; I do. But I can't just leave her like this. "Delly's cake can wait," I say, sitting on the floor next to her. I put an arm around her, pulling her closer. "What's wrong?"

Katniss sighs, leaning into me. "Nothing."

I shift away from the wall, taking her chin in my hand and staring into her eyes, at the deep dark place in them I can hardly see and never reach. "It's not nothing if you're so upset," I whisper. She leans her forehead against my neck. "What's wrong?"

Katniss pulls back. "You want kids, and I...can't."

"Yes, you can."

She shakes her head. "I can't, Peeta." She gets up and leaves, closing the door behind her.

* * *

I start on Delly's cake. It's lemon, and I'm going to put jujubes on the top. They were the candy she always bought when we went to the store with the spare change our parents gave us when we worked hard. She liked the red ones the best.

The purple ones are Katniss's favourite.

I glance up again, to see if she snuck up on me and is standing on the stairs, a smile or an apology on her lips.

She's not.

I go back to Delly's cake.

* * *

"Hey," I say softly, pushing the door open gently. Katniss is siting on our bed with her knees up, reading a book. I can't see what it is. "I finished making the batter. Do you want any before I put it in the oven?"

She glances up. Her grey eyes look blue for a second. "No,"

It's such a small, quiet 'no' that I'm immediately worried.

I sit next to her, and Katniss closes the book and slips it under her pillow. "What's wrong?" I ask, putting my arm around her and tucking her against my side.

"Nothing."

"If it was nothing, you'd be eating all of my cake batter right now."

She sighs and studies her fingers before finally meeting my eyes. "For a little while I-I thought I was pregnant."

I'm not sure to react. I want to be excited, but at the same time, I'm worried. Does this mean she's ready, or is it even more likely that she's not?

"Okay," I say, doing my best not to let any of my turmoiled emotions show in my eyes.

"But I'm not. And before I knew for sure...I was terrified. And I know it's what you want but I...I just can't handle having another person to worry about."

I grab her hand and squeeze it, to remind her that I'm here, and I'm not leaving her. "Is that why you don't want kids? You're scared?" I sort of understood that. She didn't want kids, because she didn't want them to get reaped, to die. And she doesn't think she'd make a good mother. But is it deeper than that? She can't worry or care about any more people, love them and have them die?

"Yeah. I don't want...I don't want..." Katniss sighs, slumping against my side. She tried to tell me, at least. I know words are hard for her, but she's gotten them out before. "I love you"s and "I missed you"s and "I'm scared".

"It's okay, Katniss. I know one day you'll be ready. I can wait."


End file.
